


Episode 15: Riots of New York

by ajremix, cleverqueen



Series: Legends of Tomorrow Season 2 Rewrite [15]
Category: DC's Legends of Tomorrow (TV)
Genre: Alternate Canon, Canon Rewrite, Gen, New York Draft Riots, Racial Tension, Virtual Season/Series
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-20
Updated: 2017-09-20
Packaged: 2018-12-31 23:21:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 22,972
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12143325
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ajremix/pseuds/ajremix, https://archiveofourown.org/users/cleverqueen/pseuds/cleverqueen
Summary: On a suggestion from Jonah Hex, the Legends head to New York in 1863 to acquire a spear piece. When the worst civil and race riots in American history break out early, the Legends have to choose: hunt for the artifact or save all of American history? Too bad the Legion is also in town to make both of those things harder.(Episode 15 of a full 22-episode rewrite of season 2 - the same broad story arc, but rewritten episodes.)





	1. Chapter 1

_PREVIOUSLY ON LEGENDS OF TOMORROW: Legends meeting Jonah Hex, Ray proposing to Kendra, Kendra trying to connect with a brainwashed Carter, Stein realizing he has a daughter, Queen Bee taunting Amaya about her village, Mick’s brief encounter with Legion!Len._

**_SCENE ONE: COLD OPEN_ **

SCENE: Waverider Fabrication Room.

MICK, AMAYA, and RAY are decked out like cowboys from the Old West. Ray settles his hat firmly on his head, then takes the gun and holster which JAX and STEIN (in regular clothes) are holding out to him.

Ray is clearly nervous. He breathes heavily in and out, bounces twice to psych himself up. “Okay, okay. I can do this.”

Jax shakes his head. “I can’t believe you kept the hat from last time.”

OCULUS!LEN walks in right through the door, making quite an entrance for the one person who can see him. “Of course he did. I bet he has his sheriff’s badge too.”

Mick takes a swig of beer because of course he has a beer bottle in hand. He’s not noticing O!Len at all. Nope.

Jax huffs at his own naiveté. “No, I can believe it actually.”

Ray pulls his sheriff’s badge from a pocket, shines it on his waistcoat, and fixes it on his lapel.

O!Len smirks. “Told you.”

Ray is still freaking out. “What if I can’t do it? What if someone gets killed?”

Mick says to Ray, “You’ll be fine, _pardner._ ” His gaze resolutely does _not_ cut over to O!Len when he says it.

O!Len makes a face at him anyway. “Oh, that’s nice. I’m still here, Mick. Your _real_ partner. You can’t wish me away or make me so mad that I won’t see what you’re doing.”

Amaya says to the room in general, “You have all been to this time before. I’m excited to see it.” Her eyes are over-bright, and she leans forward very far.

_Close-up on O!Len/Mick._

O!Len raises his eyebrows. “Maybe she’s too excited. Is she on drugs, do you think, Mick? Is she a bad influence on you?”

Mick takes another swig of beer. “It’s a time-traveler tourist trap. Time to get your bonafides, Justice Society. Hmmm, that name’s too long. I’m just going to call you—”

Amaya cuts him off. “Vixen. We’re in the field. It’s Vixen.”

“Rules,” Mick finishes. “Or are you more of a rule-breaker?”

O!Len shakes his head. “You need to be a free-thinker to break a rule, Mick. She’s not a good partner for you either. Especially when I’m _right here._ You and me, right?”

Primly, Amaya ripostes, “Rules are there for a reason. And in other situations”—she pauses—“I don’t want to think about it right now.”

Mick shrugs and holds out his beer bottle to Amaya. The fact that she _takes_ it shows how upset she is, even if she isn’t chatting freely about why.

_Expand the camera shot to include the other three._

Stein is offering more support to the still nervous Ray. “We believe in you, Mr. Wayne.”

Ray, not remembering his previous alias, is confused. “What?”

Jax doesn’t get to come along on this trip. He says, “I’m just glad you don’t need all of us. After last time, I don’t want to go back there ever again.”

Stein nods. “Quite right, Jefferson. We have plenty to do here on the ship.”

O!Len puts on his most high-pitched mocking tone. “ _Oh, Jefferson, will you wear my friendship bracelet for ever and ever?_ ” In a deeper voice, he imitates Jax’s reply, “ _I’ll treasure it until we have a nuclear meltdown._ ”

Mick growls and snatches his bottle back from Amaya, takes a deep swig and a deep breath. “Let’s go get this fight started.”

Stein looks disapproving. “It’s not a fight.”

Ray agrees, “It’s a negotiation.”

Mick shrugs. “Cracking heads is a _form_ of negotiation.”

O!Len leans against the fabricator. “So unsubtle, Mick. I’m almost... (you think he’s going to say _disappointed_ ) proud.”

EXTERIOR SHOT:  
The Waverider flies over a desert valley. The scream of its engines encourages wild horses to stampede. The ship sets down on an overgrown ranch field. The subtitle reads. SALVATION 1873.

SCENE: A jail-shack in the Old West.  
Spaghetti western music rises. We see a dusty wood floor and three pairs of boots. The ones in front have spurs shaped like a picture of an atom. Pan up to see RAY doing some dramatic posing and coat billowing with MICK and AMAYA arrayed behind him.

Ray puffs up his chest. “We’re here for our friends.”

Cut to JONAH HEX. Hex has his arms crossed and his hat low over his eyes. He’s glowering at the newcomers.

Hex isn’t friendly. “You come to take this bilking longrider outta my town?”

Cut to RIP and SARA bored in separate jail cells. Rip is pacing. Sara is adding another braid to the various others she's put in her hair, but drops it when she sees them and comes over to the bars. She waves to her rescuers.

Ray swallows and doesn’t back down. “Last time we were here, we all parted as friends.”

Hex keeps glaring. “That was before your captain came back a year ago.”

Sara raises her hand. “Technically, _I’m_ the captain.” 

Hex ignores this correction.

O!Len ghosts through the bars a few times. In and out of a cell, in and out. “This is so much easier than picking locks and memorizing guard schedules.”

Hex explains, “Well, he brought two men with him, and a woman who changed men’s minds like she was changing sheets on washing day.”

Sara nods. “Sounds like the Legion.”

Ray, scandalized, “Rip! You didn’t!”

O!Len gives a derisive chuckle. “So trusting, Boy Scout.”

Hex continues, “He tried to steal from me, take something that I didn’t want to have in the first place.”

O!Len paces into Rip’s cell and drawls, “Someone’s been a naughty boy.”

Sara responds to Hex, “But you didn’t give it to him.”

Hex shakes his head. “And his friends burned half my town.”

Rip protests, “They’re not my friends.”

“If you didn’t want it, why did you work so hard to protect it?” Amaya asks.

Ray sees his opening, “We’ll take him and Sara off your hands” He pauses then pushes his luck, “And the spear piece.”

“I never said it was a spear piece.” Hex narrows his eyes. “You’ll take your crew mate. Hunter and the spear piece stay.” 

Ray is scandalized. This is their friend! A fellow fighter for truth, justice, and the American Way. (Somehow, he never remembers Hex fought for the wrong side in the Civil War.) “It’s for the good of our whole planet.” As if that argument could sway _any_ hesitant person.

O!Len is mockingly impressed. “Wow, Mick. Your negotiator is really bad at reading people. Why aren’t you in charge again?”

Hex is about as pleased as O!Len. “I don’t much know about the planet, but I know Rip and I know war. You’re the straightest person I’ve ever met, Sheriff Wayne, but I can’t trust you with this.”

O!Len sits in the chair in front of the single desk in the jail shack. He kicks his feet up onto the desk. “We could come back after dark and do this like that little holding cell in Keystone 2010. Remember, Mick?”

Mick growls at everyone. “Tell you what,” he says to Hex. “Give us Blondie, the Englishman, _and_ the spear piece, and we’ll never come back to your town again. We’ll vanish.” He uses his hands to make a _poof_ motion of vanishing. 

“Like ghosts?” asks O!Len. He stands and phases through the desk. 

Mick grits his teeth and stares down Hex. "You see us again, feel free to shoot on sight. Deal?”

Hex nods, hat hiding his eyes briefly. “That’s a deal I accept.”

“Jonah, please,” says Rip. His voice sounds more “not in front of the children!” than apologetic.

Hex hands the keys to Ray who passes them to Amaya who lets Rip and Sara out of their cages.

“I gave the spear piece to a friend of mine years ago. He’d gone to sell cattle and do some smuggling in New York and swore to hide it somewhere even I wouldn’t be able to find it.”

Sara brushes off her sleeves and takes over. She’s the captain, after all. “Where can we find this friend of yours?”

“He never came back.” Hex opens a desk drawer and passes Sara a newspaper clipping. It’s a yellowed obituary. “There was a complication.”

O!Len leans over Sara’s shoulder and whistles. “Five Points. Helluva riot.”

“Haven’t heard of it,” says Mick, accidentally responding to O!Len. Thankfully for him, everyone else assumes he’s referencing the obituary.

Rip informs them, “By my time, the 1863 Draft Riots were still known as the biggest, most violent civil and racial riot in American history.”

Sara firms her shoulders and passes the paper back to Hex. “We can get in before the riot, get the spear piece, and get out safely.”

O!Len says, “Sensible plan.” It almost sounds like a question, like he thinks the Legends team can’t have sensible plans.

Ray hums. “New York, 1863, here we come.”

Mick sighs. “Why is it always New York?”

Amaya slugs Mick companionably in the shoulder. 

 

**_OPENING CREDITS NARRATION - STEIN_ **  
_Time travel is real, and all of history is vulnerable to attack. Or to improvement. We travel through time to erase the damage done to history and to keep the Legion of Doom from destroying us all. We are a team of outcasts and misfits, so please don't call us heroes. We're Legends._

**_SCENE TWO: WELCOME TO NEW YORK_ **

SCENE: The Streets of Five Points  
The streets are lined with two-story buildings—storefronts, tenements, a church—and a few carts. The whole team—SARA, RIP, STEIN, JAX, MICK, AMAYA, and RAY—have changed into period clothes. Mick and Stein both rock the bowler hats, and all the men have suspenders except Ray who wears a waistcoat. Sara is wearing a vaguely glamorous-seeming dress with a shirred apron while Amaya has opted for the most shapeless shift she can find. They’ve all coated themselves in artistic dirt and grime. O!LEN follows behind them in the same clothes he died in, rubbernecking like a tourist since no one can see him. Along with the teeming locals and unwatched children, pigs roam freely in the streets. Stein and Jax look horrified; Rip’s nose is permanently wrinkled; Jax and Ray keep reaching out to help “stumbling” pickpockets, much to Mick and O!Len’s amusement. The subtitle reads: FIVE POINTS, NEW YORK CITY, 1863.

Jax looks all around, like a total rube. “What kind of place is this?”

Ray is excited and barely notices he’s lost his local money to a kid he just steadied when it bumped into him. “Do you think we can go to a Broadway show while we’re here?”

Stein replies to Jax, “It’s not what I think of when visiting New York.”

“It _was_ builton a filled-in lake,” says Rip. Rip clearly finds this environment distasteful.

Mick rumbles, “We’re standing in a sinkhole. Nice.”

Ray “helps” another child thief, and his sheriff’s badge is taken from his pocket. Mick grabs the kid’s shoulder and takes it back. 

O!Len can’t help giving advice. “Keep your elbow up, kid. That way they can’t see what you’ve taken.” Of course no one hears him, certainly not the young thief.

Ray gives the kid a nickel. “Take care.”

“Really?” asks Mick in disbelief, and it’s unclear whether he’s talking to Ray or to O!Len. He slaps the badge into Ray's chest who's surprised that Mick has it.

Sara gets them back on track with the mission. “Any readings on the compass yet?”

Rip focuses on the object in his hand, then points. “It’s reacting to that building.”

At the building in question, a woman in a window pulls up her dress to reveal what she’s wearing underneath: absolutely nothing (discreetly covered from the camera view by a street lamp).

Jax’s eyes go wide and he turns to the others. “Did you see that? She just—”

“Just because they don’t know what STDs are doesn’t mean they don’t have any,” Sara reminds him.

Mick claps him on the shoulder. “Let’s go in.”

O!Len follows behind. “Don’t think you can shut me out, Mick. I’m going to find the other me again, and he’ll set you straight.”

 

SCENE: ENTER THE PANEL HOUSE.  
They pass black and white photos of women’s faces and bodies. Is this Ray’s Broadway? No, it’s a brothel. Inside, men drink overpriced beer and whiskey while they loudly jostle for attention from women of negotiable affections. 

“What _is_ this place?” Ray breathes.

Rip explains, “It’s a panel house. They’re popular with ranchers like Jonah’s friend since they’re close to the cattle auctions.”

Ray is still curious. “Why not just call it a brothel?”

“Because thieves hide behind fake wall panels in the rooms to rob the preoccupied johns,” says Rip.

Mick couldn’t be more delighted. “Sex and stealing all in one place. I like it.”

Rip sighs dramatically. “Do try not to get caught with your pants down, Mr. Rory.”

“Hex's friend must know how to party if he's here this early in the morning.” Sara makes eye contact with a beautiful woman halfway across the floor. The woman’s red lips pout and her shawl barely covers her assets. The woman comes their way and offers to take Sara’s order, drinks or otherwise. 

Stein shows her a photo of Hex’s deceased friend, still currently alive. “Have you seen this man?”

The woman wants nothing to do with them, spooked. They could be angry wives or law enforcement! “No, he’s not familiar. So sorry.”

Sara runs a hand down the woman’s arm. “He’s a friend of ours, but he’s in trouble. We’re trying to help him.”

The woman ducks her head so that she can look up at Sara through alluringly fluttering lashes. “He might be upstairs,” she offers.

Sara orders a whiskey from the helpful woman, and the Legends are left to their own devices. 

Mick elbows Sara in the side. “Nice work, Blondie.”

“How does she do that?” asks Jax.

Stein says in a patronizingly commiserating way, “Someday, Jefferson, you will find the right woman for you.”

That’s not a good enough answer for Jax. “Yeah, but until then—”

Mick hmphs. “When was the last time you flirted, Professor? 1969?”

Sara doesn’t have time for the _teaching Jax to flirt_ show. “We’ll have to split up. Stein, Jax, you cover the exits. Mick, Ray, you two keep an eye on the clients in case our guy comes down. Rip, Amaya, you’re with me.”

SCENE: Staircase  
The stairs are dark and wooden. Paneled walls have pictures of mostly-naked ladies (artfully covered up by sheets and advertisements) on them. RIP, AMAYA, and SARA hug the wall as a prostitute tugs her laughing john upwards.

Rip hands the compass to Sara. “I shall wait here for you and Miss Jiwe.”

“Awww. Scared of a little flesh, Rip?” teases Sara.

“I simply don’t believe it appropriate for me to barge in on possibly naked ladies.”

Amaya’s eyebrows rise. “Yet _we_ can barge in on possibly naked men?”

Sara takes the compass and tells Amaya, “The Time Masters are awfully repressed for people from the future. You should see the orphanage he grew up in.”

“Yes, thank you for that stunning commentary, Miss Lance,” says Rip, as primly as any repressed Victorian maiden. “But perhaps we can continue with our mission?”

They leave Rip on the stairs as they open various doors. There’s the expected squeaking of bed ropes, squealing of prostitutes, and shocked gasps of people who actually notice them—all combined with Amaya and Sara’s “sorry”s. 

_Cut to the stairs._ Rip gets bumped into by working girls and their johns multiple times until he climbs the stairs himself. He briefly uses the comms to let the ladies know he’s moved to the back—servants’—stairs.

Finally, the ladies find Hex’s friend. He’s under a fully dressed brunette prostitute who’s wearing his hat and has her dress skirts artfully arranged around them both, thus hiding anything more scandalous than her bare shoulders (which her dress is slipping from) and his naked chest.

Sara adjusts her stance and simpers. “Oh, terribly sorry. We must have gotten lost.”

The employee stops to glare, “Who’re you?”

Hex’s friend gasps out, “You don’t look like the regular fare.”

Amaya and Sara share a look. They’re terrible prostitutes apparently, and they’re not the greatest liars either. Well, they’re committed to this course now.

Amaya says, “We’re very new.”

“Very,” echoes Sara.

The prostitute shrugs and turns her back on them. “If you don’t mind...” She gestures to the man beneath her, letting them fill in the implied _I’m a bit busy here, so you can let yourselves out._

Amaya willfully misinterprets. “By all means, keep going,” she says.

“We’ll just, umm...” Sara nudges Amaya and flicks her fingers towards the man’s things, then she sashays toward the couple on the bed, more sure of her course. “I’d really love to learn from you. Do you mind if I join in? Free of charge? Or how about I just watch?”

While Sara charms the prostitute and Hex’s friend, Amaya tosses his bags and pockets.

Amaya can’t find what she’s looking for. “He’s already been robbed,” she says.

“Damn it,” swears Sara. Why can’t it be easier to find the spear pieces? 

Hex’s friend sits up as best he can while underneath a determined prostitute. “What?”

The woman holds him down. “Don’t pay them any mind, lovely.” Her tone turns seductive and totally fake as she distracts him with, “I need you to give it to me.”

The prostitute’s desire for “it” can barely be heard underneath Sara’s speaking over the comms. “Stay alert,” Sara says. “There’s a thief who has the spear piece somewhere in this building.”

Of course, everyone in the room hears her say this. Hex’s friend is more than a little disturbed by it. He surges up again, abs shaking. “What?!”

Amaya tsks and tells him, “You may want to enjoy this. You can’t afford another round.”

_“What?!”_

Sara tag teams, “You’ve already paid for this one though. Get your value, friend.”

Amaya has had enough of tormenting the poor guy. She tells Sara, “I found a scrap of material stuck in the panel, it might have come from the thief. We can use it to find them.”

Sara cocks her head, looking for a way to ask the question that doesn’t sound insensitive. “You mean you want to track them by scent?”

Amaya tilts her own head to mirror Sara’s. “Or by asking Gideon to track the material. She _can_ do that, yes?” 

SCENE: Back door.  
STEIN is at the rear exit. The tiny, splintered door opens onto an empty alley filled with garbage. Inside the doorway (open because he’s cognizant of fire safety), there’s a small landing before the back staircase. The walls are papered with a loud floral pattern, huge pink flowers on minty green backgrounds. There’s no one around except for him. 

Suddenly, the left wall bursts open! It’s actually a hidden door that only _looks_ like a wall. The loud wallpaper has obscured the edges. A small woman (wearing trousers and a shapeless sack coat) barrels through. She’s carrying a satchel. 

The thief, not paying attention as she leaves the wall, runs into Stein who's just as startled by the encounter as she is and grabs the satchel by reflex. Panicked, the thief runs off without it. Realizing what he may have in his hands, Stein opens the bag and rummages through it. He pulls out handfuls of papers, cheap jewelry, and then a piece of unassuming wood. It’s the spear piece. (Maybe it glows a bit so we know what it is.)

Stein stares at the wood in his hand. His mouth is slightly open, surprised at how easy that was. Lingering string music plays, then picks up as Stein’s eyes narrow and he clutches the spear piece in a fist. It swells to a minor climax when Stein pockets the wood and chucks the satchel back into the hidden doorway. 

Stein activates his comm. “The thief just came through the back exit, but I couldn’t stop her.”

Sara replies in his ear, “We’re on our way.”

Stein readjusts his waistcoat and waits for the others to arrive. Nothing to see here.

SCENE: Back in the main room.  
MICK and RAY are playing darts, drinking, and slapping lots of patrons on their backs while O!LEN lounges against the wall next to the dartboard.

A waiting john admires Mick’s skill at darts. “Name’s Abraham,” he introduces himself, “and that was quite a shot, but I could do better.”

Mick replies in kind. “Mick, and I bet you one whole dollar I can beat that shot.” 

Ray ponders, “How much is a dollar in real money?” A quick cut to the prices board shows that a dollar is worth a stroke of the hand.

Abraham hums. “Mick? That’s a very Irish name.”

Another john has overheard. “This is a _native_ establishment.”

Ray mouths the words _Native establishment._ He asks, “Like Native Americans?” He looks around, and the camera pans to make it clear there are no Native Americans present.

Mick scoffs. “Do I sound Irish to you?”

O!Len replies, “You couldn’t sound more like a boy from a farm outside Keystone City.”

Mick has had it with O!Len. “Men with Central drawls don’t get to throw stones.”

“Who are you talking to?” asks Ray suspiciously because no one he can see has a Central City accent.

Abraham raises his fists. “Natives only,” he says, and then he throws a punch that barely moves Mick’s head. “American born.”

Mick rubs his jaw and grins.

SCENE: Stein’s back door.  
AMAYA, SARA, and RIP join STEIN at his exit.

Stein pats his waistcoat where he’s pocketed the spear. “Thank goodness you’re here. She ran right past me.”

Sara is all business. “Do we have any other leads?”

Rip focuses on the compass in his grip. “Are you certain the thief didn’t drop anything?”

Stein widens his eyes and blusters with extreme _affronted professor_ mannerisms. “Please, Captain Hunter. If I’d seen something, wouldn’t I have told you?” His hand strays to his pocket again.

Rip is unmoved. “The compass indicates otherwise.” 

Sara taps her ear and calls for the others over the comms. “Everyone not in the back staircase, come here for a meeting. Please.”

Stein suggests, “Perhaps Miss Jiwe can track the thief’s scent.”

“With so many people inside and that midden outside, I make no promises,” says Amaya. She raises her hand to her necklace reluctantly.

Sara puts her own hand out to stay Amaya’s actions while simultaneously tapping her ear piece. “Ray? Mick? You there?”

Ray’s voice comes over the comms. “Could you meet us out front?” The sounds of crashing and of Mick’s laughter transmit tinnily. “It’s more anonymous that way?” His last statement comes out as a question.

Sara shrugs.

SCENE: The main room.  
The main room is no longer a friendly arena with drinking and darts. Now it’s a giant brawl. Tables have been overturned, prostitutes and RAY have moved to hug the room’s walls. Periodically, he periodically dodges when a john is tossed his way to hit the wall and crumble to the floor with a concussion. O!LEN is leaning against the bar, watching the fight with a resigned expression. MICK is happily smashing his opponents with his fists. 

SARA leads STEIN, AMAYA, and RIP to Ray’s side. JAX comes in from the front door (which he was guarding).

Sara asks Ray, “How did this happen?”

“I’m not sure,” Ray says. “But Mick seems to be having a good time.” For a guy avoiding a bar brawl, he’s in an awfully optimistic mood. “Did we find Hex’s friend?”

“Yes, but the spear piece was already gone,” Sara says.

Ray asks, “What’s next?”

Sara doesn’t have the answers. “Unfortunately, we don’t have any leads.”

“May I suggest that we return to the Waverider?” Rip suggests.

Amaya nods. “With the data banks and Gideon’s help, we may find something.”

Stein pats his pocket again. “I have an idea that I want to run past Gideon first.”

Jax looks at Stein oddly. “You okay, Gray?”

“Fine, Jefferson. Absolutely fine.” But it’s not very believable, especially to a guy who shares a psychic connection with him. Still, Jax lets it go for now.

Ray says, “You guys go on ahead. Mick and I will catch up with you when”—a body flies at them, and Sara catches him, shoves him aside—“when Mick’s done.”

Sara sighs and nods. “At least the Legion isn't here.”

**_SCENE THREE: HAIL, HAIL, THE LEGION’S ALL HERE_ **

SCENE: Barber shop.  
Inside a busy barbershop, early morning. Men sit in chairs and look into mirrors. Some have shaving lather on their faces and others wait their turns. Standing men wear aprons and hold straight razors. 

In the waiting area, the locals are complaining and gossiping. “My Johnny was happy to volunteer for the war, fighting for our new home,” says a man with a heavily Irish accent.

One of the two barbers replies, “They’re taking them directly off the boats now.” His accent is equally as thick.

Another waiting customer says, “I hear that when you put your name onto the newly arrived rolls, they automatically choose you for the draft lists.”

Everyone gasps with horrified outrage.

A bell rings, clearly the sound of the shop’s door swinging open.

The barber who’d already spoken looks up and off-screen. “Nice to see a new face. Take a seat and I’ll be with you.”

Cut to THAWNE who has just entered, still wearing his speed suit.

Thawne does not look happy. “Why are there _pigs_ in the street?” he spits out.

Thawne walks in another few steps and is followed by DAMIEN DARHK on his right and QUEEN BEE on his left. Darhk wears a three-piece suit with subtle jacquard print, and Bee is properly corseted and parasoled. All the men in the waiting area stand and make small bows to Queen Bee before offering their vacated chairs.

Queen Bee runs a lace-gloved hand over a man’s bearded cheek and takes his chair. “You’re too kind,” she says with an unidentifiable accent. She touches her necklace, delicately like it’s just a nervous tic and not an activation of her powers. “Be a dear and give me everything in your pockets.” 

The men are enthralled and don’t even care that she’s not Irish. Every man in the establishment turns out his pockets and piles his belongings on a low table beside her. She amasses a clinking collection of combs and pocket watches, monocles and travel-sized _Bible_ s.

She smiles at her haul and blesses her victims with the same doting expression. “Now leave,” she commands.

They do. The shop empties of all but the Legion of Doom.

“Congratulations, boys,” she says, “this is now our headquarters.”

“Classy.” Thawne swipes a finger through a lather dollop on the counter, as if to intimate the shop is dirty and ill-kept.

Darhk can’t help needling Queen Bee. “I see our newest addition is turning you to a life of petty crime.”

She sniffs and turns up her nose at him, secure in her superior logic. “What if one of them had the spear piece?”

Thawne is sick of their bickering. He changes the topic. “The upcoming riot is the bloodiest civil disturbance in American history.”

“Ah, racial and economic tensions. Who doesn’t love to stir the supposed melting pot?” says Darhk fondly.

Queen Bee huffs. “This whole mission is pointless. All we know is that the spear piece is ‘in New York.’ The city alone is huge, and there’s the rest of the state to consider.”

Thawne clearly wishes he’d chosen more biddable allies. Slowly, painstakingly, he explains his thought process, “If we make sure the riot gets bigger and bloodier, the Legends will feel obligated to stop it, getting them off our backs for a time. Hopefully a few of them will die.”

The shop bell rings and a young boy comes in. He’s about fourteen with a dirt-streaked face. Queen Bee simpers at him. “Hello there, handsome. Could you help me?”

The kid trips over his too big shoes in his rush to reach her side. “Of course, ma’am. Anything you need.”

“I’ll take whatever is in your pockets,” says Queen Bee.

Thawne continues outlining his plan as though the boy isn’t there. “Meanwhile, we’ll get a head start on searching for the next piece since they’ll be too busy here.”

“Such a sweetie,” Queen Bee says to her victim. “Bye bye.”

Dismissed, the kid leaves with fewer possessions than he’d entered.

Thawne says, “I do wish we still had Rip.”

“He made a lovely gopher,” agrees Queen Bee, “and he always had an idea of where to find the pieces.”

Darhk laughs condescendingly. “Too bad your brainwashing wasn’t strong enough to hold him.”

“I’m strong enough to control anyone!” Queen Bee is not pleased that anyone could doubt her powers.

An older gentleman comes through the door, setting off the bell again.

“Hello there, handsome,” Queen Bee reprises. “Could you help me?”

“Oh, just put up the closed sign and lock the door!” Darhk snaps. “We don’t have time to rob every individual in New York.”

Queen Bee finishes up her conversation. “Bye bye now,” she dismisses her prey.

Thawne sees his opening to get them back on track. “That’s what our newest recruit is for. If anyone can find something as rare and valuable as our spear pieces, it’s an actual thief.”

“Maybe so,” says Darhk. “But all he does is complain about our plans and make contingencies we don’t need. I told you we should have gone with Merlyn.”

Queen Bee is determined to be contrary, though she’d wrinkled her nose at the new recruit’s mention too. “So long as he’s successful, it’ll be worth putting up with him.”

**_SCENE FOUR: DETOUR_ **

SCENE: Waverider bridge  
RIP, SARA, JAX, and AMAYA are on the Waverider bridge. Sara paces. Rip hovers over the touchscreen computer that’s in the middle of the room. Jax and Amaya sit in the chairs, though Amaya is looking off to the side rather than at her teammates. 

Sara slams the scarf scrap onto the surface beside Rip. “Gideon, can you use this to find the spear piece or the thief who took it?”

Gideon’s face materializes above her, dispensing knowledge. “My apologies, Captain Lance. Even if such an analysis were possible, genetic records for 1863 New York are extremely sparse.”

“Damn it.” Sara goes back to pacing.

“It’s all right, Gideon,” Rip reassures his ship.

“Thank you, Captain Hunter,” says Gideon before her head disappears again.

A brief moment of helpless silence falls. They still don’t know what to do. Then, STEIN enters.

He says, “I’ve been thinking about the compass.”

Jax wrinkles his face up in confusion. “We already used the compass.”

Rip says, “Its capabilities are limited, I fear.”

“What if we could find a way to amplify it?” Stein pats at a pocket, a nervous tic that he’s acquired since taking the spear piece.

“Great,” says Sara. “Let’s do it.”

Rip isn’t nearly so ready to go along with just any idea. “What are you suggesting?”

Stein pre-loads his answer with buzzwords and appeals to everyone’s experiences. He knows Rip isn’t going to like this. “With the micro-technology we saw back in 2017, Lily could make an amplifier.”

“Lily,” Rip repeats emotionlessly.

Stein hems and haws as he says, “My daughter, Lily, yes.”

Rip whirls, coat tails flying to express his pique. “Are you truly advocating that we bring a time aberration on board the Waverider?”

Jax isn’t pleased by the tone. “Hey, man. She has a name.”

Stein sweetens the pot. “Moreover, I noticed the compass reacted to _Lily_ ”—he emphasizes that she has a name—“during the invasion. Perhaps because she is an aberration, yes, but all the more reason to use her unique abilities while we can.”

Sara’s head tilts to the side. “Did we even _have_ the compass—”

Jax nods firmly, backing him up. “If Gray says she can help, she can help.”

“All right,” says Sara. “We need options, and this is the best idea I’ve heard so far. Amaya, what do you think?

Amaya jolts from her reverie. She says, “I’ll go along with your decisions.” This isn’t a real answer, but Sara accepts that Amaya must have her own reasons for abstaining. That’s why Sara is captain after all.

Rip can’t believe he’s hearing this. He’s appalled. “She is an _aberration._ We should have corrected her existence the moment we realized what had happened.”

Sara has already decided, however. She asks Stein, “How are we going to pick her up? We can’t just leave Ray and Mick here alone.”

“How about the jump ship?” Stein suggests.

“I can go with him,” Jax offers. “I did bring it back to the Waverider without getting lost in the timeline when you were all at the Vanishing Point.”

Rip crosses his arms. “Well, I can see when I’m overruled.”

Sara says. “Your objections are noted.” She’s clearly not as sympathetic as Rip wants her to be.

“Come along, Jefferson.” Stein precedes his partner off the bridge.

SCENE: In a hallway on the way to the jump ship bay  
The hallway’s lighting tinges everything blue. JAX trails STEIN who is powering ahead.

“Gray. Gray!” Jax pulls Stein to a stop by the elbow. They need to face each other to have a serious conversation. “You’re upset.”

Stein’s hands fly up, freeing his elbow and adding to his manic air. “Of course I’m upset, Jefferson. That... that... uneducated numbskull wants to ‘correct’ my daughter out of existence and no one seems to care.”

Jax is ever the peacemaker. “Rip has a point though. She _is_ an aberration.”

“You’re all discussing her like she’s a thing.”

Jax is surprised. “We wouldn’t...” He rethinks his answer and has to admit: “Yeah, we did. And that wasn’t right. Lily is a person.”

Stein is still distraught, agreement or no agreement. “What if she _does_ disappear? I wasn’t there for her entire childhood, and now that I’m involved in her life, all I’ve done is bring danger.”

“Lily is your family, and that makes her my family too. Now that she’s here, it’s not our place to decide if she doesn’t deserve to exist.”

Stein balls his fists. “ _Captain_ Hunter thinks it is. He’ll kill her, and it will be all my fault for bringing her into existence in the first place!”

“Naw, man. Rip will do what the rest of us agree. If we can get the others to stop thinking of her as an aberration, he’ll have to go along.”

“Thank you, Jefferson.” Stein takes a deep breath and visibly calms himself. He’s ready to get back on task. “I’ll go prepare the jump ship if you’ll pack up some supplies.”

Jax grins. “And maybe talk to Amaya while I do it. Yeah, I know. But remember, she _is_ an aberration, no matter what we call her. Not a lot we can do about that.”

Jax leaves in one direction while Stein hurries in the other.

“Maybe there’s nothing _you_ can do about her being an aberration.” Stein pats his pocket. “But the spear piece can.”

**_SCENE 5: DAY DRINKING_ **

SCENE: A bar in Five Points.  
Light filters into the front booths through dirty windows, but the deeper you go, the darker it gets. Exposed wooden beams overhead creak as a fiddle player pounds out a beat with his foot. (Can we get a fiddle rendition of the opening theme? Of course we can!) There’s a bar, mahogany wood and clearly the most expensive thing in the place. It’s polished to high shine, and the bartender is currently facing away from it. All a person can see is his slicked back hair.

MICK and RAY belly up to the bar alongside FOUR MEN with blackened eyes and bloodied knuckles. They’re all in a great mood, laughing and pushing each other. (Except Ray, who’s a bit wide eyed and unsure whether he should push anyone back. Eventually, he hides behind Mick, but that’s not much of a hiding place in this crowd.)

Mick knows exactly what he wants and bellows for it. “Barkeep!”

The bartender holds up a hand, and Mick shrugs. He’ll get his beer eventually.

The four guys that Mick and Ray entered with are _very_ interested in being friends with Mick. They cluster around him.

Guy 1 says, “You’re new in town.”

“Good eye,” says Mick with heavy sarcasm.

Guy 2 asks, “Have you thought about joining a firefighting company?”

Mick laughs. An arsonist in a firefighting company. Hah!

Guy 3 says, “We’ve got a rivalry with the boys from across town.”

“And Tammany Hall,” adds Guy 1.

Guy 2 continues the pitch, “It’s not just about getting to the fire first. We’ve stolen hoses.”

“And ladders!” says Guy 4.

Mick turns to lean his back on the bar, away from the bartender. “This is getting interesting,” he says.

Guy 1 rallies his friends, “Remember when we blocked their way with those tipped over carts?” This inspires a wave of laughter from his fire crew.

Guy 3 moans, “I remember an earful from my wife about that one. She liked that cart. You know the one with the—”

Guy 2 cuts him off. “We could use someone like you. Strong and strapping.”

Ray chimes in, happy to sell his friend to these enthusiastic gentlemen. “Mick’s a great brawler.”

All five stop and _look_ at Ray, bewildered as to why he’s talking.

Guy 1 picks back up. “So long as we don’t get drafted, our firefighting company will always triumph over our enemies.”

O!LEN appears, lounging against the bar on the working side. He’s leaning his hips and an elbow on it, looking up at the ceiling beams like they’re more interesting than anything else. His fingers ghost over the draft pulls. “You might not belong with the Legends, Mick, but you don’t belong here either.”

Mick ignores O!Len and asks for clarification from his new friends, “Drafted?”

Guy 2 spits on the ground, unworried about tuberculosis contagion. “President Lincoln. May he rot.”

O!Len flips around to lean in. “After this job is over, it’s time to go back home. You were happy working with Lisa, weren’t you?”

Guy 3 also spits on Lincoln’s name. “And freeing all those slaves,” he gripes.

Ray is puzzled. “Isn’t that a good thing?”

Guy 3 is happy to set Ray straight. “They’re gonna force us to fight in their war and when we come home, all our would-be jobs will be taken.”

Guy 1 adds, “Our houses lived in.”

O!Len _tsk_ s. He’s still having his own conversation with Mick, and it’s giving Mick trouble keeping track of both. “Drinking while the others are hunting for a spear piece, Mick? I didn’t think you’d leave your crew behind that way.”

Guy 3 is still talking about the draft. “And of course the _rich_ can buy their way out of it.”

O!Len points a mocking finger. “You’d better be planning to eat something with this little midday libation.”

Guy 1 huffs. “Three hundred dollars. Who has three hundred dollars?”

Mick has an answer for that one. He asks Guy 1, “You thought about stealing it?”

Guy 2 gloms onto the word. “People’ve been stealing the draft lists recently.”

“Maybe you should do that.” Mick is having trouble caring about all of this history, much less tracking whom to talk to about what. His life would be easier if he was drinking. He waves an arm. “Hey! Bartender!”

The bartender finally turns around, and it’s CARTER HALL. He’s wearing a white shirt under suspenders with a dark brown bar towel over his shoulder.

Carter has the thickest Irish brogue of anyone so far in this whole episode. “Welcome to my bar. What can I get you gentlemen?”

“Whoa.” Ray, flabbergasted, can’t say anything more.

Mick also looks surprised, but quickly controls it. “You got a name?” he asks.

“Name’s Shay Hullehan.” says Carter... er, Shay, this time around.

Ray looks confused, “I thought the bar said Hannibal’s.”

Shay makes a displeased face. “That may be the name I was told to put on the paperwork, but I’ll stick with what my parents gave me.”

“Mick Rory.” Mick holds out a hand to shake over the bar.

“That’s an Irish name if I’ve ever heard one.” Clearly this is a good thing from how warmly Shay says it. “But you don’t sound like you’re from across the sea. Where are your people from?”

“Dunno,” says Mick. “I’m a farmer out west, and my folks are gone.” That’s true.

“My condolences,” says Shay. “A man shouldn’t be alone in this city. If you need anything—anything—you come to me. I don’t know how they do things out west, but in Five Points your bartender has everything you need.”

O!Len hums. “Wouldn't have thought Bird Brain was a community organizer in a past life.”

Shay is still talking. “Work, loans, friends in higher places? I’m your man.”

“Right now all I want is a beer,” says Mick.

O!Len is getting more than a little irritated. “You've never been able to drown me out with alcohol before, Mick. You need to stop trying before your liver gives out or you keel over from whatever rotgut this dump has.”

Shay grins. “I’ve got a special brew in the back. Consider it a ‘Welcome to Your New Home’ drink.” 

Shay leaves to go get it.

The bar sounds get muted. Everyone is talking amongst themselves, leaving Ray to have a heart-to-heart with Mick... or try to, at least.

Ray tentatively begins, “You don’t talk about your parents much.”

Mick cuts the conversation cold. “They’re dead, Haircut. Not much to say.”

Ray pushes, “Or about other... people?”

Mick laughs, but not like anything is funny. More like he needs to expel some emotions to get any words out. “Like Snart? He’s dead too. Talking about it ain’t gonna bring him back.”

“It’s just, you’ve been drinking a lot lately and staying out on all the dangerous missions,” Ray says.

O!Len nods along. “This may be the first thing me and the Boy Scout have ever agreed on.”

Mick says, “Maybe you shouldn’t be here right now.” But is he talking to Ray or O!Len? Does it matter?

Ray psychs himself up, just like he did before confronting Jonah Hex at the beginning of the episode. “No, no. We’re going to have this conversation. How are you doing _really?_ Are you still seeing, uh—”

Mick derails, not talking about himself at all. “It’s just that wherever Hawk-idiot is, his better half is somewhere nearby.”

Ray is suitably distracted by this and looks around for Kendra. 

Mick claps him on the shoulder. “I’m gonna stick around at this bar until we’re all ready to go. You don’t need me, and I’m gonna take your advice. Stay out of trouble.”

Ray isn’t giving up so easily. “You’re still a part of the team.”

“Get outta here,” says Mick, not unkindly. He sounds like he’s doing Ray a favor. Note that he’s successfully kept Ray from making him talk about his feelings. “Let the others know where I am. If Blondie calls, I promise to come running.”

Ray is reluctant, but still looking around for Kendra instead of at Mick. “I’m here if you want to talk. I went through this too, you know, when my fiancée—”

Mick doesn’t want to hear it. “Go!”

Ray walks out, past the bar. The camera follows him to where he bumps into Shay coming back from getting the beer. “My friend is in a bad place,” he says. “Keep an eye on Mick for me, will you?”

“On my honor,” swears Shay.

O!Len gives Ray’s departing back a grudgingly admiring look before turning back to Mick. “Finally, just us. Like it always should've been.” 

Shay delivers the beer and Mick pounds it, much to the delight of the firefighters near him.

Mick shoves off the bar and turns his back on O!Len. “Let’s have some fun.” 

The firefighters cheer. Darts _thunk_ heavily into a board somewhere nearby. The fiddle player gets really loud.

**_SCENE SIX: HELLO, LILY_ **

SCENE: Waverider bridge.  
JAX and AMAYA are bent together and talking inaudibly in a corner. RIP is in his office, visible through the clear doors and messing with a computer screen. SARA drums her fingers impatiently on a console.

Gideon’s voice comes through invisible speakers, “Please refrain from such actions, Captain Lance.”

Sara snatches her hand off the console and instead goes preternaturally still, the trained waiting of an assassin. “Sorry.”

STEIN enters with LILY. She’s like a curious kitten, trying to take in everything at once.

“Dad, this is amazing.”

Stein clears his throat. “Everyone, this is my dearest child and the Earth’s foremost nanotechnologist.”

Lily ducks her head. “Daaaad. I’m your _only_ child.” It’s the singsong of a long suffering and very terrible joke.

Jax crosses to them and gives her a hug. “All settled in, then?”

Lily smiles at him in relief. A person she knows! “I’m so glad to be here. Mom and I have wondered what Dad’s been up to.”

“Let me introduce you to Amaya,” says Jax. “She’s a real superhero.”

Amaya holds out a hand. “Welcome to the Waverider.” She meets Stein’s eyes and tilts her head towards Jax. Jax has obviously tried to talk her over to Stein’s side of the “human or aberration” divide. While the jury is still out, she’s at least willing to take time to think about it.

“You’ll like Miss Jiwe,” Stein tells Lily. “She’s friends with animals.”

Lily blushes and hisses at him, “Dad! My animal phase lasted until I was, like, eleven.”

Stein clucks. “All the same,” he says.

Sara breaks her creepy stillness. “Thank you for agreeing to join us, Lily. I’m sure you’ll live up to Professor Stein’s promises.”

“I’ve told them you can make an amplifier for one of our devices,” Stein explains.

“You have, hmm?” says Lily dryly. She notices that Rip has so far been silent and goes to stand in front of him. “I don’t think we’ve met. I’m Lily Stein.”

“Of course,” says Rip. He doesn’t introduce himself nor suggest that it’s a pleasure to meet her.

“Ummm, okay.” Lily has no good way to respond to that.

Realizing he’s been unconscionably rude and that Mother would never forgive him, Rip gives a little. “I’m Captain Rip Hunter. But I doubt we’ll be seeing much of each other before you’re gone.” Not before you leave. Before you’re _gone._

 _Close up on Amaya._ Rip’s insinuation has bothered her. She’s angry and sad in turns. “I’m going to get dressed.” She storms out, and no one on the bridge knows what set her off. 

“Mister Hunter!” If Stein had pearls, he’d clutch them. “Is that any way to thank someone who’s offered her services with solving _your_ problems?”

Jax holds his hands up and backs away from his touchy other half.

Lily tries to calm everything down and be personable. “It's all right, he's not the first... prickly man I've had to deal with. But I'm ready to do science so just point me at the problem!” She’s so dorky, so adorable. And probably trying to channel Felicity as a _loveable sidekick to heroes._

“Well, that’s decided,” says Sara, less interested in the interplay than in the results. “While you do science, the rest of us will take a look around outside. Maybe we can find some clues of our own. Jax, Stein, meet me at the hatch in five. Rip, you’ll stay here and help Lily with Gideon.” She leaves.

Jax twists his hands over his shoulder. “I’m just gonna... talk to Sara, about what we talked about before.” He favors Stein with a significant look and then escapes.

Stein squeezes Lily’s shoulder. “I’m sure you have all the tools you need, my dear. And Gideon or Mister Hunter can show you to anything else that comes up.” He gives her an awkward peck on the head before he, too leaves.

Lily grumbles to herself, “Just me and the jerkface. Great.”

Rip goes to his office and soon returns, staying far from Lily. “Here’s the compass,” he says. He puts it on a console without getting any closer to her. She’ll have to walk across the room to get it. “If you’ll excuse me. I have some _things_ that need to be corrected.” It’s a very ominously significant statement that goes right over Lily’s head.

Lily is now alone on the bridge, annoyed and lonely. She snatches up the compass. “I’m going to science the hell out of this compass. Let's see how you like me then.” Lily goes back to her side of the room, throws herself down in a chair and scowls at the magical artifact she knows nothing about.

**_SCENE SEVEN: I PREDICT A RIOT_ **

SCENE: Midtown Manhattan.  
Sweat-dripping workers amble in the streets, looking out of place among the tourists and shoppers with their folding fans and handkerchiefs. It’s clearly a hot day. The workers are in torn clothes, sometimes covered in soot and other times holding baskets full of wares they’re bizarrely not selling. SARA, AMAYA, JAX, and STEIN wander aimlessly.

Sara pauses at a corner under a street sign for 38th St., and the procession halts. “Anyone want to make a suggestion?”

Stein offers, “Continuing forward in a grid pattern might be best.”

Jax says, “My mother taught me to always turn right.” A passing charwoman glares at Jax, and he looks at his compatriots for any good reasons. “What did I say?”

Amaya frowns. “I grow uncomfortable with the looks people are giving us.”

“What looks?” asks Stein. He pats his pocket in a nervous gesture.

“I don’t blame you,” says Sara. She dispenses orders to deal with the racial tension as best as possible. “Amaya, stick close to me. Jax—”

“I’m with Gray.”

Stein is surprised by the turn of events, which he genuinely didn’t notice, but is willing to be a good ally. “Of course, Jefferson.”

SCENE: Waverider galley.  
LILY is hunched over the long table. She’s laid out the compass, a microscope, and a plethora of delicate tools. She’s staring intently at a Waverider iPad knockoff (white frame) in her hands. On the screen, she’s pulled up schematics of the compass. 

RIP enters, banging into a wayward chair as he does so. Lily startles and looks up.

Rip demands, “What’s the status of your amplifier?”

“Like I told you when you called, no updates.” Lily returns to scrutinizing her schematics. “I’d be done sooner if you stopped pestering me every few minutes.”

“I thought you were supposed to improve it immediately.”

Lily puts the pad down, fed up with Rip’s behavior. “What _exactly_ are you expecting me to do?” They glare at each other.

Rip has no answer for her. “Gideon, report on the situation.”

“I don’t know how anyone can stand you if you treat people like this,” Lily says, mostly under her breath. 

Rip’s lips press into a thin line, clearly having heard her, but he doesn’t reply. 

SCENE: Midtown Manhattan.  
SARA, AMAYA, JAX, and STEIN continue straight onto Third Avenue. Jax and Stein fall behind while Sara and Amaya link arms loosely, ready for action but close enough to have a quiet discussion.

Amaya broaches the topic she’s had close to her heart since Queen Bee told her about her village and descendant. “Have you ever wanted to change the timeline?”

“Are we talking about Lily?” Sara asks.

“No,” says Amaya. “And yes.”

“Mmmhmmm.”

Amaya explains her confusion, “Lily is an aberration, yet you befriend her.”

“Lily is a person, too, like you or me,” Sara says. In a situation that is highly fraught with racial tension, the pointedness of mentioning a second-class citizen’s personhood is not lost on either of them.

Amaya says, “You could simply be _using_ her, like a good commander would.” Amaya is recently out of WWII, and it can show in her approach to war and violence. She has a different perspective than the Legends who grew up in peacetime.

Sara isn’t touching that idea. She wants to be a good captain, but also a good person. “You saw what happened when I tried to change things for Laurel. There can be so much damage when we try to do good.”

Amaya wrinkles her brow. “And is Lily damage? She seems stable and kind.” She’s talking about Lily, but her serious eyes make it clear she’s thinking about larger consequences. The audience knows she’s worried for her people, even though Sara does not.

Any reply Sara might make is interrupted by Rip on the comms. “Sara! Gideon predicts a riot is beginning near you!”

Stein’s voice echoes in her ears as well. (Rip must be on all the frequencies). “It’s not supposed to happen until closer to evening,” Stein says.

Sara growls. “The Legion must have done something.”

“What do you want me to do?” asks Rip from the Waverider.

“Keep us posted,” Sara says. “We’re going to try and stop it from starting.”

The foot traffic around them has picked up, and we notice there are more of the workers, fewer of the tourists in the mix. Sara, Amaya, Jax, and Stein follow the flow until they arrive in front of...

SCENE: Outside US Provost’s Office. Third Ave at 46th St.  
A huge crowd has amassed. At the head of it is a well-dressed man. He is a DRAFT OFFICIAL, surrounded on all sides by his BODYGUARDS. 

The official shouts over the protestors crowded around him. “No matter how many times the draft lists get stolen or destroyed, the law will be enforced.”

The crowd hisses its displeasure. 

A gentleman in an artfully ragged coat springs from it and jumps onto a gaslamp for height over the crowd. It’s DAMIEN DARHK. He’s rabble rousing.

“They can’t make us go!” Darhk cries. “Take the rich boys whose lives won’t be destroyed by years away.”

The protesters roar their approval of this idea.

The official tries to reason with them. “These displays do you no good.”

“Take the slaves straight to the front, and leave _real_ New Yorkers alone!” Darhk preys as easily on race as on economic inequality.

The majority of protestors roar again, but a few—all dark-skinned—slip away into alleys. They can tell where the crowd’s energy is going, and they have no desire to be caught in Northern lynchings.

At the back of the crowd, the Legends are horrified.

Sara starts forward. “I may not get to kill him, but I’m going to capture him and stick him in the holding cells forever.”

Amaya catches Sara’s hand and pulls her back. “If we attack him now, we might start this riot ourselves.”

The official carries on as inexorably as the turnings of bureaucracy’s wheel. As if the protestors aren’t upset, he announces, “Now, I shall draw today’s names.”

Sara takes a deep breath. 

The mob cries out as one, “No!” They tighten forward.

“Come with me, then,” Sara says to Amaya. “We’ll find a safe way to get at him.”

Stein nods. “Jefferson and I will guard the rear.” He taps his pocket again.

Sara looks at Stein oddly, having noticed the recently developed tic. She decides not to deal with it at this particular moment in favor of pursuing Darhk and the spear piece. “If it looks like things are getting bad, do not hesitate to become Firestorm.”

“You got it,” Jax readily agrees.

SCENE: Waverider galley.  
RIP is glaring at LILY’s back. She’s still bent over the compass.

She mutters to herself, “I don’t know why Sara thought this guy would be a good addition to the crew.”

“I beg your pardon!” Rip draws himself up, dudgeon broadening his shoulders. “I am the captain of the Waverider. Not Miss Lance.” Quietly, he’s forced to amend, “Until recently.”

Lily snorts. “What do you do, then? Other than be a bossy jackass?”

“Your opinion of me is irrelevant,” says Rip. His defensiveness over his contribution to the team has him come across as snobby and dismissive. “Once you’ve done your job, you’ll be gone.”

Gideon’s voice fills the room before Lily can reply. “My apologies for interrupting, but the new timeline has not changed. I calculate the riot may be starting shortly.”

“That’s too soon!” Rip worries.

Lily, the scientist, has a practical question, “How will that affect the timeline of the riot, Gideon?”

“This new riot will encompass the entire island of Manhattan,” says Gideon.

Neither of them are quite sure exactly with that will mean. Rip asks for clarification. “And how will that affect _the timeline_?” He glares at Lily as if messing with the timeline is all her fault. (Which, in an adjacent way, to his eyes, it is.)

Gideon dispassionately reports the future headlines. “The boats in the harbor will be destroyed, and the Northern army detained. This will lead to a Northern loss at Gettysburg, followed by the entire Civil War.”

Rip and Lily share a disturbed look. They can put aside their enmity to solve this more immediate problem.

“I don’t want to live in the Confederate States of America,” Lily says.

Rip taps his ear to activate his comms. “Whatever you’re doing, Captain Lance, it isn’t enough. You _must_ stop this riot from getting started. Now.”

SCENE: Midtown Manhattan.  
SARA and AMAYA snake through the crowd until they reach DARHK. He smirks at them and jumps down from his lamp post.

Darhk spreads his arms in an obnoxiously welcoming gesture. “Ah, the littler Lance and her... friend. This is a dangerous place for birds like yourselves.” He winces at his own pun. It’s like he couldn’t help himself.

Sara doesn’t even notice it. She’s on a mission. “We’re here for the same reason you are.”

Amaya asks, “Where’s the spear piece?” Direct, to the point.

“My dears, the Legion has no idea where to find it,” says Darhk.

Amaya looks him over from head to toe, evaluating. “Then why are you here?”

Darhk grins. “Right now? I’m having fun.”

Disgusted, Sara narrows her eyes. “More importantly, why are you so smug?”

“Couldn’t it be that I’m glad to see you?” Darhk asks blithely. He and Sara circle each other tightly, jostled by angry protesters. Sara takes a breath to tell him something, maybe to disavow any relations between them. They have nothing in common, ex-LoA and Lazarus waters or not. 

But that’s not Darhk’s reasoning at all. “I’m eager for you to meet the newest member of our little group.” He chuckles, meanly. _Close up on his face as he vaguely threatens:_ “I can’t wait to see what heartbreak looks like on your face.”

**_SCENE EIGHT: THE NEW RECRUIT_ **

SCENE: The streets of New York City.  
There are brownstone buildings to the sides, horse-pulled carts and carriages in the roads. The sun is starting to get blotted out by clouds. RAY is squinting, trying to make out a distant street sign.

Ray gives up on reading the sign and tries to ask a PASSERBY for directions. Said passerby refuses to stop, hurrying along in the direction Ray has been walking. 

Ray sighs and taps his earpiece. “New York is different than I remember it.”

Jax replies in his ear. “Ray?” 

Ray oh-so-subtly reveals his problem. “I hope I haven’t gotten lost again.” 

“I thought you were with Mr. Rory?” Stein’s voice cuts in.

As Ray looks right and left and up and down for a street sign of any kind, he is pushed and berated by the New Yorkers. They have places to be. 

“I’m coming to meet you guys,” Ray says. “Strength in numbers, right?”

Jax hums. “I don’t know if one more white guy is going to make a difference.”

“See you soon,” Ray says. He taps his earpiece again. Now talking to only himself, he has to admit it: “I think I’m lost.”

The people bumping into Ray have become more purposeful. (Minor key music with a rapidly plinking beat, like a racing heart, fills the scene.) They’re on their way to somewhere. When one climbs a telegraph pole and cuts its wire, Ray gets the impression something more is going on here. He ducks into a dark alley, shaded from the sun on all sides by taller buildings.

SCENE: A dark alleyway.  
RAY’s eyes take a moment to adjust. He tucks himself in a cut-away corner. Soon after, an alleyway door opens from one of the buildings. THREE MEN exit, arms laden with boxes full of haphazard papers. They confidently powerwalk in the opposite direction from the rambunctious crowd that Ray has just escaped. Something about them is suspicious. (It could be the suspenseful background music.)

Since he’s lost already—and can’t return the way he came—Ray follows them. 

The first suspicious man complains to his fellows, “These boxes are bloody heavy.” His voice—like his fellows—has a fairly thick Irish accent.

The second makes a frustrated noise. “Look like you’re supposed to have ’em.”

 _Close up on Ray’s reaction:_ His suspicions have been confirmed! These _are_ nefarious characters. Now he _has_ to keep following. 

The first man doesn’t like being patronized by the second. “I _am._ If I wasn’t supposed to have ’em, I wouldn’t be pointing out how bloody heavy they are, would I?”

The second guy is full of wisdom. “Just gotta get ’em to the boss.”

Ray whispers to himself, “There’s a boss, huh?”

The three men and their Legendary shadow duck down another alleyway. From the neighboring streets, muted yelling and whooping can be heard.

The men come to a halt.

The first suspicious man reports, “The plan went perfectly, boss.” 

Ray can’t see the BOSS. He squints into the alley’s gloom.

The second man says, “We’ve stolen every draft list in the city.”

The boss’s outline is visible now. He’s deep in the shadows and leaning against a wall. He drawls his reply to his goons, “I’ll have more work for you soon.”

The boss comes out of the shadows and into the spotlight of a gaslamp. It’s LEN, wearing a floor length duster and a pair of tinted glasses reminiscent of his goggles. He hands out envelopes of cash to his employees. 

_Close up on Ray:_ eyes wide, mouth open. He starts forward, but stops himself.

Len tells his crew, “They’re calling more names over at the Provost’s on Third right now.”

The third man, heretofore silent, spits on the ground. He doesn’t talk much, but he’s got opinions about the draft lists. 

“Let’s go, boys,” says the second suspicious man. 

The three minions leave in the direction of the loud crashing noises.

Ray backs away quietly and taps his earpiece. “Jax, Stein, you still there?”

Stein promptly replies, “What do you need, Raymond?”

“I need backup.”

Jax sounds worried, “You all right?”

“Yes.” Ray qualifies, “Physically.”

Stein says, “We’ll be right there. Stay where you are.”

**_SCENE NINE: KENDRA + SHAY 5EVA_ **

SCENE: Shay’s bar in Five Points.  
Hours may have passed, but the crowd is much the same. MICK has a lager glass in his hand and both elbows on the bar as he regales a laughing SHAY with outlandish stories. Patrons clink glasses and play darts. The fiddle player has been joined by a full bar band—guitar, bodhran, mandolin—who are picking out traditional tunes. 

Mick wraps up the tale he’s giving to Shay. “—and that’s when the undead assassin taught her younger self how to hit someone.”

Shay keeps laughing. After a few moments, he catches his breath enough to say, “You’re an interesting man when you’re drunk. No wonder you have such colorful... friends...” He trails off, looking over Mick’s shoulder.

Mick turns to follow Shay’s line of sight. The dirty window acts like a soft-focus filter; outside, PAST!KENDRA is squatting in front of a street urchin. She gives the kid a dinner roll, and it runs off. She stands up, looking in the window as she does so. When her eyes fall on Shay, she gives him a sweet smile. O!LEN crosses in front of the window and waves to Mick.

Mick turns his back on the scene and notices Shay’s besotted look. “You gonna do anything about that?”

“About what?” This time, Shay’s laughter is forced. “Oh, this is another of your jokes.”

Mick isn’t having any of that obliviousness. “It’s obvious she likes you.”

Hopefully, Shay asks, “Do you think so?” He shakes his head like a puppy. “There’s no way to tell.”

Mick taps his temples. “I know things,” he says.

“It doesn’t matter. I’ve worked so hard to get what I have today. If the people around here start thinking I’m an abolitionist, I’ll lose everything. I don’t want people thinking I’m a Republican.”

Mick can’t help himself. Sardonic, he asks, “Who does?”

O!Len slinks onto the barstool beside Mick. “You may be good at predicting people, Mick, but Shay’s still a manipulative user who isn’t good enough for Kendra. Doesn’t matter what you tell him, he’s not really listening.”

Mick apparently would rather matchmake than listen to O!Len. “Tell me what you like about her. Maybe you’re not good enough for... what’s her name?”

O!Len continues on, blithely accusatory, daring Mick to keep ignoring him. “Just like you’re not listening to me when I tell you to get away from the Legends. This isn’t what we came for. We came to steal and party and have a good time. When was the last time you even stole something for yourself instead of the mission? You know, we could team up again.” He doesn’t elaborate on how Mick could team up with an Oculus ghost.

Shay looks up toward the ceiling, clearly imagining his ideal Kendra. “Josephine is everything a good woman should be. She looks after the children and elderly, makes sure her parents have comfortable lives. She goes to church on Sunday, and runs a small embroidering circle on Tuesday evenings too. And, of course, she’s beautiful.” 

It’s a very 1860s list. Piety, domesticity, purity, and submissiveness are the four virtues of The Cult of True Womanhood. While Shay doesn’t touch on the last two, the first are acclaimed. 

Well, it’s not what Mick would look for, but this isn’t his relationship, so he’s not knocking it. “Life’s too short to wait. You know what’s gonna happen here.”

O!Len tries to swat Mick in the shoulder, but can’t make contact. “Are you giving advice based on our partnership? It isn’t over, Mick. We’re still partners.”

Mick warns Shay, “You can hear it right in this bar. The draft, the gathering crowds, the gangs. Your world’s about to get real ugly, real quick. And she’s gonna get the worst of it. Her and the rest of the black folks.”

The background music changes from upbeat to a ballad. They’ve found a singer who starts in. (Music: “The Banks of the Lee.”) _I loved her very dearly, most truly and sincerely._ Like any other Irish ballad, it’s a good bet this love doesn’t do the singer any good. It probably ends in death and tragedy.

Shay is unreceptive when he asks, “What do you think I can do about that?”

Mick is going to give advice whether Shay wants it or not. It’s the reverse of a bartender joke: Mick drinks while dispensing advice, rather than pours. “If you care for her, you’re gonna support her through this. You’re gonna look after your whole community.”

“I’m one man, one _Irish_ man, not even Native.” Shay protests, but he’s clearly intrigued.

O!Len hears what Mick isn’t saying. He thinks Mick is mad at him for leaving, for no longer being supportive. And that frustrates O!Len enough that he slips off his stool to get up in Mick’s ears. He won’t be ignored if Mick is upsetting himself with untruths. “Just because I don’t have a body, doesn’t mean I’m not here for you. Do you hear me?”

Mick doesn’t even flinch. He says to Shay, “If you can’t do that, you aren’t worth her time.”

O!Len won’t let Mick run himself down either. “You’ve _always_ been worth my time, Mick. You’re the best partner I ever had.”

“Did you lose someone you loved?” Shay asks.

Mick pounds his lager. “Something like that.” He waggles his empty glass. 

Shay takes it and turns around to get him another one, contemplative look on his face.

**_SCENE TEN: LOSING THE SPEAR PIECE_ **

SCENE: The Streets of Midtown, Exterior  
Above an alleyway, TWO MEN lean out of a high window in a brick building, dropping firearms to a GROUP of a half dozen waiting below. RAY crouches, spying on them from across the street. JAX and STEIN run up and crouch down next to him.

Ray spares them a look before turning back to the group. “Took you long enough.”

Jax keeps a wary eye out. “We were trying to avoid the rowdier crowds. And your directions are terrible.”

“New York looks different than I’m used to, okay?”

“Regardless,” Stein interrupts, “what did you require backup for?”

“See those men over there?” Ray nods his head to the group in question. “From what I’ve seen they work for Snart.”

There’s a pause as the information sinks in. “Wait,” Jax says, trying to wrap his brain around this. “Snart as in _our_ Snart?”

Ray shrugs. “I don’t know. Looks like him, sounds like him, and he’s organized people to steal things for him so...” He gives Jax a self-effacing grin. “Figured maybe I should get a second opinion before I jump to conclusions.”

Stein takes stock of their surroundings. “My goodness! That’s the firearms factory! We saw policemen inside holding off a crowd of people on our way here.”

“If Snart weaseled his way into arms dealing, he’s probably not on our side,” Jax notes grimly. “We taking them on?”

Stein is resolute. “We can’t take the chance he’s the Leonard Snart that we remember. “

Ray makes his sad-puppy eyes, but agrees. “We have to stop him and his... minions. Otherwise they could shoot police and innocent bystanders.” 

The two men who’ve been leaning out the windows now jump to the ground. They—and the group they meet up with—are all holding bundles of weapons. They hurry down the alley away from Ray and the others. 

“Let’s go!” Ray says, already chasing. Jax and Stein—the latter briefly touching his pocket—have little option but to follow.

At the alley’s mouth, Ray runs into the barrel of a pistol and is forced back into the dark. As Ray backs into Jax and Stein, Stein touches his pocket again. It’s LEN, flanked by four armed men, giving the heroes a cruel smirk. “I wondered how many more thefts I’d have to make before you came snooping so I could introduce myself. First impressions are important, after all.”

“Are you working with the Legion?” Jax asks without hesitation. “Is that why you’re here, Snart?”

“I see my reputation precedes me.”

“We’re friends,” Ray says plaintively. “We were teammates.”

Len’s smirk twists into a sneer. “Doubtful. My choice of company tends not to include predictable idiots bound to get themselves killed by something as ridiculous as ‘heroism’. Also,” he cocks back the hammer on his gun—a Colt 1860 revolver—and points it at them, amusement leaving his expression, “not keen on people brainwashing my partner.”

They splutter in response, Ray finding his words first. “No one brainwashed Mick! Well, he was but it wasn’t us!”

“Right,” Len drawls sarcastically and a touch angrily, “that’s why he’s pretending to be a hero instead of with me where he belongs.”

“But the Legion, Mr. Snart?” Stein asks. His hand hovers momentarily by his pocket but he catches himself and lowers it. “Even if you weren’t aware of the atrocities they’ve committed, are you honestly comfortable working with a group whose actions, if left unchecked in this very city, would result in extensive racial violence and oppression?”

“I’m not big on chaos,” Len admits. “The others might be fine with digging the spear piece out of the rubble, but I prefer a systematic approach.” He shifts the gun so it points exclusively at Stein. “What do you have in your pocket, Professor?”

Stein stutters. “I—I don’t—”

“You keep touching it like you’re worried you might lose it. Must be important.”

Stein keeps his mouth shut.

Len sighs. “Keep in mind, though I’d prefer to get this over with _before_ the riot reaches us, when this riot goes off, anyone who finds your body will think you’re nothing more than a random victim.”

One of Len’s men sneers at Jax. “Maybe we should make an example of the darkie.”

Len casually swings his gun around and shoots out one of the man’s kneecaps. “I hear talk like that again, next shot will be fatal.” He points his gun at Stein again.

Jax says, “Man, this aggressively racial stuff is why I didn’t want to go back to the Old West!”

Ray looks confused, “I thought it was because you were held hostage.”

Jax glares at him, “Where do you think all the Confederate soldiers who didn’t want to integrate went, Ray?”

Ray’s expression is one of dawning realization. “That’s a good point.”

“As disgusting as the man is, he does have a point.” Len points his gun at Jax. “I’ve been told that you being alive is the only way to stabilize the old man. Sorry, kid, pick your parasites better in your next life.”

“You wouldn’t,” Stein says, though he doesn’t seem confident in his own words.

“Last chance, Professor. I don’t know what spineless version of me you knew, but I have a reputation for being ruthless and cold for a reason.”

“He doesn’t have it!” Jax protests.

Len smiles, slow and cruel, pulling the hammer back. “Shall we bet on it?”

“Wait!” Stein holds his hands up before making a show of reaching for his pocket slowly. “You can have it, just... don’t harm Jefferson.” He brings out the spear piece. 

Jax and Ray look betrayed. Len is just satisfied. Len has one of his men—still there, unlike the two who had helped the kneeless one leave—bring the spear piece to him.

“You had the spear piece the whole time?” Ray asks, stunned.

Jax is near apoplectic. “You’ve been having us running around the entire city, while there’s lynch mobs around, for _no reason_? Gray, furious isn’t strong enough for what I feel right now!” 

Len leans forward and plucks the comm from Jax’s unprotected ear. Jax flinches and jerks back, too late.

Len holds the tiny device up to his mouth. “Testing, testing. First off, I’d to thank the very inaccurately named Legends for yet another spear piece. Next time I’m hoping for at least _some_ challenge, though.”

CUT TO WAVERIDER.  
Lily looks around in confusion while Rip’s expression is one of dawning horror. 

CUT TO SHAY’S BAR.  
Mick sneers and slams another drink. 

CUT TO STREETS OF MIDTOWN. CROWD.  
Amaya looks to Sara and asks, “Who is this?” 

Sara lets out a distraught, “Leonard?”

Darhk takes in her pain with glee. “I daresay it’s worth putting up with all his dramatics just for this moment.”

CUT BACK TO THE ALLEYWAY.  
Len continues, “Whatever _did_ the other me see in you? You’re really pretty pathetic. Now I don’t know what pretty little lies you’ve been stuffing in my partner’s head,” he sneers, “but I _will_ be taking him back first chance I get.” There’s something almost soft in his voice as Len says, “Hang tight, Mick. Next thing I’m stealing is you.” He tosses the comm back to Jax. “Why don’t you run along, now? And remember: I want a challenge next time!”

The three Legends hesitate until Len fires another shot, this one hitting the wall just behind them. It’s incentive enough to get them running. 

One of Len’s men frowns. “We just gonna let them go, Boss?”

Len strokes the pocket he put the spear piece in, smirking happily. “I got what I want, that’s all I really care about. And, as promised,” he pulls out four envelopes, “payment for your services. Go drink, riot, whatever it is you feel like doing.”

The men take the envelopes, running off excitedly. All but one who lingers and asks, “What are you going to do?”

Len turns to him, smirking, as says, “I’ve got a ride.” Then, in a sweep of red lightning, THAWNE whisks him away.

CUT TO EACH LEGEND AS THEY SPEAK.  
The Legends, meanwhile, are all off-kilter by this turn of events.

Rip demands, “Dr. Palmer, Mr. Jackson—was that _really_ Mr. Snart?”

“Who’s Snart?” Lily asks.

“He was a friend,” Ray tells her. “He sacrificed his life to save the team. Mick, are you okay?”

At the bar, Mick pauses. “You all heard him that time?” His voice is a little uncertain. Next to him O!Len lifts his eyes to the ceiling. Mick is _finally_ beginning to believe there’s a real Len running around.

“He was standing right in front of us!”

“...he’s real?” Mick’s voice is soft, a little shaken like he’s afraid to hope.

Amaya looks immensely concerned. “Mick, we need you to focus right now. We can talk this—” 

Her words are interrupted by Sara furiously lunging at Darhk. The crowd shouts at her, several angry men turning to protect someone they think is one of their own. Amaya grabs Sara and pulls her back a few feet. 

“Was that what you were talking about?” Sara spits at him. “Your surprise was turning another one of our teammates against us?”

Darhk straightens his suit, not at all perturbed by the attack, just entertained by it and Sara’s anger. “If it makes you feel any better, you’ll have something a bit more pressing to focus on shortly.”

“What are you talking about?”

He spreads his arms, grinning broadly. “Why, the riot of course.”

Over where the draft officials are still trying to calm the crowd, red lightning lances up behind a police officer. A gunshot splits the air and a protester in the front falls, blood spraying out of his chest. The lightning crackles away from the officer with the literal smoking gun and through the crowd until Thawne is suddenly right next to Darhk. “Ladies,” he says cruelly, “good luck.” And in another crackle, the two men are gone.

The crowd around Sara and Amaya, realizing someone has just been shot, roars in anger and charges forward. The officials are quickly engulfed, and riot has officially kicked off.

**_SCENE ELEVEN: THE RIOT GROWS_ **

SCENE: Barbershop/Legion Temporary HQ, Interior  
QUEEN BEE is sitting on a barber’s chair, bored, with a massive pile of random and useless items next to her when THAWNE runs in, looking irritated. “I can’t believe history failed to mention Captain Cold’s massive ego,” he tells her.

“You sound jealous that he’s been more successful than you’ve been,” she chides. She pushes to her feet, cutting off Thawne’s retort. “Is it finally my turn?”

“Yeah, yeah. Throw some gasoline on this mess. Just keep in mind we’re on a time limit.” Thawne gives her a sarcastic look. “I’d hate to leave you here because you didn’t make the rendezvous.”

Queen Bee just brushes by him like the commoner he is. “Please. This will hardly even be work.”

SCENE: The Streets of New York, Crowd  
AMAYA is trying to pull SARA away as everyone else rushes forward, calling for blood. Sara struggles against her, futilely calling for the crowd to stop. 

“Sara, we have to go!”

“They’re beating those men to death!”

“There’s too many people in the way, we’ll never get to them!” Amaya finally maneuvers them to the edge of the crowd. She pulls Sara to an alleyway, pressing Sara to the wall and blocking the path back to the riot. “Maybe they were supposed to die. We don’t know for certain. But I _do_ know, especially in a situation like this, we can’t save everyone. We have to choose our battles. The two of us against hundreds, possibly thousands, of angry people? Even if we killed everyone we met, that’s not a battle we’d win.”

Sara grips Amaya’s arms, takes a deep breath to re-center herself. “You’re right,” she says eventually. “Damn it, you’re right. If we’re going to make any real difference, we’ll need the team.” She takes another breath and gives Amaya a nod. Amaya gives her a satisfied little smile in return and lets her go. As Sara leads them down the alley and away from the riot, she calls on the comms, “Everyone, we need to regroup.”

“Agreed.” 

CUT TO THE WAVERIDER  
RIP enters commands into a panel. “I’m sending the jump ship to pick up Mr. Jackson’s party. You and Miss Jiwe will need to collect our erstwhile Mr. Rory and find someplace with more room and fewer people so we can get the jump ship to you. Then we can figure out what the Legion is up to and stop them.”

CUT BACK TO THE RIOT IN PROGRESS  
SARA protests, “We can’t just leave the riot to spiral out of control!”

Over the comm, Rip says, “It’s a riot, Miss Lance. By definition it is out of control. It is time to cut our losses, Captain.” He gives her the title extra emphasis, trying to remind her of the responsibilities inherent in the role.

Sara isn’t having it. “If we don’t do something, history will change!” She visibly calms herself. Not that she needs to explain her orders, but she will because she’s a good captain. “If we can keep the timeline from imploding, keep the Confederates from winning the war, keep millions of people in 2017 safe from ripples in the time stream, then we _will do so._ ”

“What do you propose we do? The seven of us against one of history’s largest riots?” There’s a pause, during which a surge of rioters knock Sara into Amaya. The latter taps her necklace to channel an immovable elephant. She is an island of calm in the crowd. The pause ends, and Rip yelps, “Miss Stein, what are you doing?”

“I’m making an image model based on crowd statistics,” she snaps back, voice tinny as it’s relayed through Rip’s comm rather than her own. “Modeling’s something I do when I’m nervous, helps me see the big picture of what I’m trying to do.”

When Rip speaks next, he’s breathless and a little afraid. “There are over fifty thousand people in the streets. We’re already too late.”

Sara nods to Amaya. “You heard the man. We’re fighting destiny today. Good thing we’re Legends.”

**_SCENE TWELVE: DECISIONS_ **

SCENE:Shay’s Bar, Five Points, Interior  
In SHAY’S bar, MICK drains the last of his glass and pushes away from the bar. 

O!LEN towers over Mick as best he can, obviously wishing he had a physical body. “You’re not going out there, Mick.”

“Pretty sure dumbasses that get themselves killed don’t get opinions.”

“It’s not like you’ve never left me before!”

“Like that’s the same thing.” Mick snarls at the bar top. “Get lost. I’m sick of your voice.”

From just off screen, Shay says, “And here I was about to ask if you wanted another drink.”

Mick grunts and pulls out some money. He doesn’t bother to count it, just throws the wad on the counter. By Shay’s reaction, it’s more than he drank. “Keep it. Won’t be needing it where I’m going.”

Mick turns away, and O!Len’s voice is desperate when he whispers, “Mick.”

Shay asks, voice soft, “You’re going to join the protest, aren’t you?”

“It’s a riot, now.” Mick straightens his clothes; he may be going out to get himself killed but no sense doing it while looking shabby. “Best stay inside. There’s gonna be blood on the streets.”

“Don’t think that’s a good idea. You’ve been drinking an awful lot.”

Mick pauses, looking at Shay for a moment before saying, “I know this is shocking, but I actually like you. I never thought you could actually be a decent person, and yet.” He waves his hand at Shay, ignoring the confused “What?” his words get him. Mick returns to the bar and puts an elbow on it, leaning in to say lowly, “This is going to be the worst night of your life. Not just yours, but everybody’s. You ever been in a riot before?”

“No,” Shay tells him, almost hypnotized by the gravity in Mick’s voice.

“I’ve been in a couple in prison. It’s all emotion. Anger, mostly, but the thing is, riots are fueled by emotion. All the people out there, all the people that will be joining in”—he nods over to a group of men who are also gathering their things, looking angry and determined—“they’re feeding into it. And every person who dies, every building they bring down, that’s going to fuel it more. The only way you, your lady friend, or your neighbors are gonna survive is by someone stepping up and protecting them right now. The moment they walk out of here, chances are you’ll never see them again.”

“But... I’m just one man. What can I do?”

“You got connections, don’t you? Use ’em.” Mick tips his hat. “Good luck.” With that, Mick heads toward the door.

O!Len is still at the bar, expression tight. He watches Shay watch the patrons. Mick is only the first to leave. Almost no one is staying behind, and Shay seems to realize how very empty everything will be with all of them gone.

O!Len isn’t getting through to Mick, so, in frustration, he lashes out at Shay despite knowing he won’t be heard. “You’re just going to let him go, aren’t you? You _know_ he’s going to out there to get himself killed and you’re going to stand by and let it happen. Your future version was an idiot, but at least he had a spine.”

Mick peers at the sky through the doorway and sneers. “Storms coming in. Won’t have much time for fires.” He turns his collar up and takes a step out.

Shay calls out, “Wait!” Mick stops and looks back. “I think I have an idea, but I could use your help.”

**_SCENE THIRTEEN: REVELATIONS_ **

SCENE: Waverider, Bridge  
RIP and LILY are examining one of her 3D models of Manhattan. RAY, JAX, and STEIN enter. 

Jax stomps past Rip and Lily. “I can’t believe you, Gray! You know, every time I think we reached an understanding, you pull something like this!”

Stein’s protest is weak but he’s still making the attempt. “It’s not as if I had planned for this to happen! I’d just thought—”

“Thought what?” Jax rounds on him. “That we’d get tired of looking for it and leave? Is that what you thought would happen? We just lost almost all our pieces. Of course we wouldn’t give up!” 

Stein falls silent, looking frustrated and guilty and distraught. 

“You don’t always know best, Gray! When is that gonna get through your head?”

Ray steps up, putting a hand to Jax’s chest and guiding him away with a quiet, “Easy.”

“Professor Stein,” Rip says, “I don’t understand. Why would you lie about the spear piece? Were you planning to use it yourself?”

Stein, upset with himself and the situation and not helped by Jax’s emotions bleeding through their bond, explodes at him. “It was for Lily! I know it was stupid and foolish and that I was putting the team in jeopardy but the thought of losing Lily...” He looks at her, voice breaking. “I never thought of being a parent before, but now I can’t imagine being without my daughter. Surely, Captain, you can understand.”

Rip presses his lips together, unable to look at him or Lily. His loss may not be as constant and consuming as it once was, but it still hurts him dearly.

Lily, however, goes up to her father. “What do you mean it’s for me? Why would you lose me?”

“Lily...” Stein puts his hands on her shoulders, trying to find the right words. “Everything I did was for you. The spear piece, bringing you on board—it was to protect you.”

Rip looks even more upset. “Did you lie about her ability to amplify the compass, as well?”

Lily looks exasperated by Rip’s outburst. “Look, if I had a little more time—”

“Yes, I lied about that too,” Stein interrupts to tell Rip testily. He turns back to Lily, hesitant. “I told everyone you could amplify the compass not because of your skill and knowledge but because... because you’re an aberration.”

“I don’t... what does that mean?” When Stein just stammers at her question, Lily turns to the others, none of whom may eye contact. “Gideon, what does he mean, I’m an aberration?”

“A time aberration is an object or person brought into existence due to a change to the timeline.”

“Wait, wait! Am I not supposed to exist?”

“Your birth was due to Professor Stein interfering with his past self. Neither Professor nor Mrs. Stein had children in the original timeline.”

She stumbles back, out of Stein’s grasp. “I’m not... I’m not real? Is that what this is about?” She looks at her father, eyes welling with tears. She whispers, “You were never going to tell me this, were you?”

“How could I possibly have told you in a way that wouldn’t upset you?” Stein asks gently.

Lily shouts back, “Any other way would’ve been better than this!” She turns to Rip, jabbing a finger in his direction. “Is that why you hate me? Because I’m not supposed to exist?”

Put on the spot, Rip mutters, “It’s my duty as a Time Master to correct aberrations.”

Jax interrupts firmly, “Lily is real. All your memories, all your feelings—they’re just as real as mine.”

“Lily,” Stein says, bringing her attention back to him, “I’m so sorry. I was only trying to protect you.”

She shakes her head, voice quiet and trembling. “Everything you’ve done has been for my sake but you hardly ever ask how I feel about it first.” She moves around Stein, making her way off the bridge. “Excuse me. I need some time to process this.”

Silence on the bridge. After a few moments, Ray speaks up. “I know Lily finding out she’s an aberration is important, but I think we should also be talking about how Snart is alive and working with the Legion?”

Rip guiltily admits, “That would be my fault, I’m afraid.”

“We’re just finding out all sorts of things today,” Jax says, taking a seat and bracing for more bad news.

“I had suggested to the Legion and helped them to recruit a past version of Mr. Snart, both because of his skills and also because”—he hesitates for a moment before just letting the truth out—“I knew it would cause everyone distress.”

“Why didn’t you tell us?” Ray asked.

“Unfortunately I’d forgotten,” Rip says defensively. “Since breaking the brainwashing, my memories of that time have been unclear. You’ll recall I hadn’t remembered attacking Jonah before he threw me so unceremoniously into a cell.”

Jax looks at him, gaze hard for a moment before wryly saying, “You know, I feel like you were more efficient when you were brutal and working for the bad guys.”

“Captain Hunter,” Gideon announces, “Mr. Rory is on the comm.”

Grasping onto the interruption, Rip takes Mick’s call immediately. “Mr. Rory, since Five Points is some distance away from the riot, you should be safe until Captain Lance and Miss Jiwe can reach you.”

“Don’t worry,” Mick’s voice says gruffly, “I’m not leaving.”

There’s a brief pause. “I’m sorry. What do you mean by you’re not leaving?”

“Just what I said. I’m staying to defend Five Points.”

Both Rip and Ray talk over each other, protesting, while Jax’s eyebrows raise at the announcement. 

Mick interrupts them, "I'm not good at this goodbye stuff so... bye."

“Mr. Rory has disabled his comm,” Gideon announces.

“Wait,” Jax says, “you can do that?”

Ray asks, “Does anyone else think Mick might be trying to get himself killed?”

“Let’s get our two missing members before worrying about Mr. Rory,” Rip says, hitting a button. “Captain Lance, Miss Jiwe, have you gotten to a clear location?”

CUT TO AMAYA AND SARA.  
Amaya and Sara are slinking around side streets. Voice low, Amaya tells Rip, “We’re not evacuating.”

CUT TO WAVERIDER.  
On the Waverider, Rip throws his hands in the air. “Has everyone taken leave of their senses? Why on earth do you want to stay there?”

Behind him, Lily’s 3D image model is flashing.

CUT TO AMAYA AND SARA.  
The two women creep behind a group of rioters attacking someone, smoothly knocking them out and taking their weapons. Sara helps the victim, a young black worker, back to his feet. 

“Are you alright?” she asks. When the worker nods somewhat numbly, she follows up with, “Do you have a safe place you can get to?” He nods again. “Get there as quick as you can. Avoid the bigger streets.”

“Yes, ma’am. Thank you!” He runs off.

Amaya says to Rip, “We’re going to stay and mitigate as much damage as we can.”

Over the comms, Rip warns them, “This is far too big for us to handle. We either need to find another way to prevent these riots or get assistance. Either way, it would be more effective to have everyone on board!”

Sara jumps on the comm. “These people need our help, Rip. The Legion wanted to make this riot big enough to make the North lose the war. We still have time to keep that from happening.”

CUT TO WAVERIDER.  
Rip looks at the 3D model despairingly. “How are we possibly going to do that?”

Jax stands by Rip. “Sara, Mick says he’s staying behind in Five Points to help defend that neighborhood. We can meet there, figure out what we’re going to do.”

“Sounds good,” she says.

CUT TO AMAYA AND SARA.  
Sara peers around a corner. She sees a massive group of people, some of them carrying firearms, and she ducks back to avoid being seen. 

Her face and voice are both wry when she asks the Waverider, “Don’t suppose anyone has a map?”

CUT TO WAVERIDER.  
“I’ll guide you from here,” Rip says. He interrupts himself: “Mr. Jackson, where are you going?”

Jax says, “I’m taking the jump ship down to help them. Even if I gotta go by myself.”

“I would like to join you, Jefferson,” Stein says. “I would like to do at least one thing right today.”

Ray agrees, “Me too. We’re a team. We can’t abandon each other.”

Rip is vocally flustered. “This is far beyond our usual scope. Even the Time Masters would consider this beyond control. If you go down there, there’s a very good chance you may die!”

Sara’s losing patience. “Whatever you decide, do it soon. Amaya and I could use directions or backup. _Now_ not later _._ ”

Jax, Stein, and Ray exit. Rip stands alone on an empty bridge. 

He turns back to the model, to the huge crowds crawling over it and the occasional building that’s going up in smoke. “Miss Lance, I will be able to guide the two of you to Five Points while keeping away from the crowds, are you ready?”

**_SCENE FOURTEEN: RACE TO FIVE POINTS_ **

SCENE: Streets of Midtown, Exterior  
A window breaks as burning wood is shoved through it. The camera pans over a large CROWD OF RIOTERS outside a building with shutter siding. The building’s sign reads Bull’s Head Tavern. The siding, interior, and sign catch fire as the crowd cheers and yells. The words are mostly incomprehensible due to the noise, but some phrases stick out. “Fight your own war!” and “Not good enough to live here but we’re good enough to die for ya, huh?” Someone throws a torn and bloodied police jacket into the fire. Behind the crowd, AMAYA and SARA dart across the street.

They crouch along between buildings, pausing at the next intersection to make sure the coast is clear. 

Sara seethes. “I hate this,” she mutters. “I can’t stand not being able to do anything.”

“I know,” Amaya tells her, just as quiet. “I hate it, too.”

On the comms, Rip says, “Ladies, you still have a long way to go before you get to Five Points. I would suggest making haste.”

“Yeah, Rip, we know,” Sara says tartly. To Amaya she’s somewhat more wry. “The one time I’m willing to get on a New York subway and they haven’t been invented yet.”

Amaya smirks a little. “I’ve always preferred... alternate modes of transportation.”

Sara smirks back. “Like flying?”

“Only when I can get away with it.” She pauses momentarily. “And maybe a couple times when I probably shouldn’t have.”

“You rebel,” Sara teases. They check the street one more time. “Alright, let’s go!”

They run across another street. As they go, Rip comes over their comms again. “Captain Lance, there’s a large crowd that just turned off Broadway onto Forty-sixth. They’re three blocks away from you.”

“All right. Proceeding with caution,” Sara replies.

Amaya’s expression hardens. “I can hear them already.”

As they’re about to move, they hear scuffling. An Irish-accented man says, “Thought you could run from us, did you?”

A woman’s voice cries in response, “Please, leave us alone!”

Amaya and Sara look around to find four men surrounding an older, well-dressed white man and a black woman dressed as his servant. One attacker shoves the woman aside; another takes the man’s cane, knocks him down, and beats him with it while the others kick at him. “How’s it feel being the one kicked around? Didn’t think us lazy drunkard Paddies would ever fight back, did you? Thought we’d forget how you _high society_ folks kept ignoring us in favor of your precious darkies?”

Amaya catches the cane in one hand from behind and knocks the man out with an uppercut. She and Sara take out the others just as easily. “Well,” Amaya says, handing the cane to the servant woman, “I feel a little better.”

“Me too,” Sara says. 

They help the man to his feet. He has a gash on his head, is holding his side, and leans heavily on the servant.

“Thank you,” the servant says.

“Don’t thank us yet.” Sara looks down the street to where the sound of the crowd is quickly growing louder. All the buildings around them have the curtains drawn tight; they’re not getting help from anywhere. “Here.” Sara spies some broken fencing and uses it to cover the four of them as she draws them into a small side street. She and Amaya take defensive crouches and wait.

Through the gaps of the fencing, they watch a stream of people march past, calling for violence and blood. The crowd has to be well into the hundreds, but one person catches their eye: a nattily dressed black woman walking calmly, unharassed, a sizeable buffer all around her.

Amaya sucks in a breath. “It’s Queen Bee!”

“Here to make things worse, no doubt,” Sara growls.

Over the comms, Rip asks, “Are you certain?”

“Given the context, not an easy mistake to make,” Sara says. 

The crowd finally passes and they stand up. Sara ushers the rescued man and servant away from the direction the crowd was going. “Get inside as soon as you can. Be careful!”

The servant, her arm wrapped around the man, nods and they leave. 

A moment of silence passes before Sara turns to Amaya. “You want to go after Queen Bee, don’t you?”

“Yes.”

If a voice could hide its face in its hands, that’s what Rip’s voice sounds like. “Please don’t.”

In true Legends fashion, they ignore Rip and stealthily follow the crowd. Using their respective abilities, Sara and Amaya climb a nearby building and leap across rooftops, no longer caring about being inconspicuous. From above, they watch Queen Bee point to buildings seemingly at random; the crowd breaks down doors and windows at her command. On occasion, people are dragged out of buildings and beaten or buildings are lit on fire. Sometimes people come out of buildings of their own accord, obviously brought under Queen Bee’s influence to join the riot.

“We need to stop her,” Sara says.

“Agreed,” Amaya replies, “but how?”

On the ground, Queen Bee looks alternately bored and amused, twirling her parasol. This is easy for her. She sighs and looks up. Her eyes widen slightly when she sees Amaya with the spirit-wings from a large bird of prey. Sara is hanging onto Amaya’s shoulders, and they’re both headed straight for Queen Bee. With a flick of her wrist and necklace glowing, Bee widens the circle of calm around her, giving Amaya room to land. The crowd streams around the new arrivals, not seeming to notice the Legends at all.

Queen Bee gives them a cordial smile, opening the parasol and holding it over her head. “The wonderful thing about being a time traveler,” she says conversationally, “is you always know what the weather is going to be like.”

Sara pulls out her staff, split into halves. “You going to leave peacefully or do you really think you can take the both of us?”

“However am I and my _hundreds of loyal pets_ going to stand up to you two?” Queen Bee asks, sarcastically aflutter at the idea.

“We break your hold on them, you’re in as much danger as us.”

She smirks a bit. “True, but I _could_ still even things up a bit.”

The sound of a door being broken down catches Sara and Amaya’s attention, followed shortly by screaming. A family is being dragged out onto the stoop, the children being forcibly torn from their parents. Men with clubs approach them.

Queen Bee gives Sara a scandalized look. “Those poor people! Who could _possibly_ save them?”

Sara snarls, visibly torn between going to help and just beating Queen Bee’s head in. 

Amaya puts a hand to Sara’s arm. “I’ve got this. Go.” 

With a grateful and apologetic look to Amaya, Sara leaves.

Queen Bee smirks. “Now it’s just the two of us. How cozy.”

Amaya narrows her eyes. “Did you want to get me alone?”

As if the question reminded her, Queen Bee says airily, “Have you looked into the future of your village? Or are you _so_ committed to truth, justice, and the boring way that you’ll let the people you swore to protect be slaughtered?”

“You’re trying to talk to me about the virtues of tampering with the timeline?” Amaya asks, more incredulous than anything. “While you’re here, _now_ , making it worse for people like us.”

“Please, I barely have to do anything.” Queen Bee looks over the crowd, bored. “I just point out something and they’re jumping to destroy it all on their own. Their hatred and anger drives them. Without me to keep them focused, this entire street would be burning down.”

“Don’t act like you’re doing anyone any favors. If it wasn’t for you and the Legion, it wouldn’t have gotten this bad.”

“That’s the problem with you hero types,” Queen Bee _tsk_ s. “You never look at the bigger picture, too concerned about all the insignificant parts.”

“Of course you’d think _people_ are insignificant when the only thing you care about is yourself.” Amaya sneers. “That’s why you think _you_ should be the one dictating how time should run. I’m sure your _teammates_ are the same.”

Queen Bee shakes her head, mock-mournfully. “You think I haven’t planned for them? I’m insulted at how naive you think I am. Like a hero. But fine. Since your mind is so obviously made up, this conversation is done.” 

Amaya goes into an attack stance, clearly expecting this to turn into a battle, but Queen Bee looks off into the distance where smoke is beginning to funnel upward. 

“Would you look at that?” Queen Bee says mildly. “If I remember correctly, that would be the Colored Orphanage burning down right now.” She gives Amaya a cruel smile. “Wouldn’t it be a shame if not all the children got out in time?”

Amaya’s jaw is tight, visibly keeping herself from attacking. “You’re a power hungry monster. That’s all you’ll ever be.” She races off towards the fire.

Queen Bee rolls her eyes at Amaya’s exit. “How sanctimonious and dull.” Her very anachronistic watch beeps on her wrist. “Time for me to go.” She heads to the street’s edge. “You boys have fun,” she calls out to her thralls with a wave. As she leaves, her influence recedes from the crowd, some of them looking confused as to why they’re out on the street.

SCENE: Waverider, Bridge  
RIP is pacing back and forth, waiting for some kind of word from either Sara or Amaya. LILY cautiously enters.

“Rip?” she asks. “I thought I heard the jump ship leave.”

Rip, not looking at her, arms drawn tight to his body, says, “You heard correctly.”

Lily looks around. “Where’s my”—her voice catches on ‘my dad’—“everyone?”

“They’ve gone back down to the city.”

“What?” she asks, alarmed. “Why?”

“Because they’re fools and heroes who can’t leave people helpless, even in impossible situations.”

The comm crackles briefly and Sara says almost playfully, “Aw, that’s sweet of you to say, Rip!”

A sigh explodes out of him. “Thank goodness. Do you see Miss Jiwe?”

“I’m here,” Amaya says, sounding a little breathless. “The crowd appears disoriented. I think Queen Bee left.”

“Which is good,” Sara says, “but also makes them more unpredictable. We could really use some directions here.”

“Right, of course.” Rip leans in toward his multi-colored map. “Head west and make a left onto Seventh Avenue. It will be a much longer route, but you’ll circumvent the worst of the riot. It seems mostly concentrated east of Broadway.”

“Got it,” Sara says. “Let us know if any groups are headed our way.”

Lily steps up next to Rip, focused on the map. Rip looks at her oddly. “Miss Stein, you’re no longer needed on the bridge.”

She glares at him. “Are you going to kick me off because I’m not necessary?”

He’s slightly taken aback and backtracks. “I mean that you don’t need to be here if you don’t wish to be.”

Lily turns back to the map. “Aberration or not, my dad taught me to see my projects through to the end. I want to stay and help however I can.”

Rip presses his lips into a line before nodding. “Very well, if you would like to be Captain Lance and Miss Jiwe’s eyes, Gideon and I will come up with a defensive strategy.”

Lily gives him a tiny, grateful smile. “Thanks.” Rip returns it with a nod.

**_SCENE FIFTEEN: MAKE A STAND_ **

SCENE: The Streets of Five Points, Exterior Shay’s Bar  
The sky is so overcast it could be late afternoon or creeping up on twilight. It’s sprinkling rain, and thunder is rumbling in the distance. RAY, STEIN, and JAX come out of a small alley to where MICK is leaning against a brownstone, looking like he’d rather be just about anywhere else. Probably due in part to the annoyed O!LEN at his shoulder.

Ray asks, “Mick, what’s going on?”

Stein squints. “Is that a previous incarnation of Mr. Hall?”

Mick nods over to where SHAY is in front of a large and growing crowd of disgruntled Irish workers. “Bird boy’s trying to talk ’em out of rioting. Not working so well for him.”

Ray looks at Shay, running back and forth, trying to keep people from leaving, then at Mick, obviously uninclined to help, and back again. Expression determined, Ray goes up to assist. Jax, hanging back with Mick and Stein, says, “I hope they don’t decide to jump him instead.”

A man is talking over Shay’s beseeching as Ray comes up. “Out of the way, barkeep!” The man steps up to Shay like he’s reached the end of his patience. “You’re a good man, and I’d rather not be scraping bits of you off the bottom of my shoe!”

Ray puts on his most personable smile and says, “Excuse me. Hi!” He gives them a little wave when everyone turns their attention to him. “Sorry to interrupt, but I think you should listen to my friend here.” Shay blinks in surprise. “You don’t want to go out there. People are getting hurt; buildings are burning; it’s all just a huge mess.”

“Aye!” someone from further back yells. “The ones getting hurt are the rich folk that’ve been stepping all over us!” 

There are murmurs of agreement.

Jax snorts. “Nice to see what they think about black folks.”

“Tell me about it,” O!Len agrees.

Mick drinks a pull from a beer bottle that has appeared seemingly out of nowhere. It makes O!Len’s scowl deepen. “Guess some things don’t change,” Mick says.

Jax looks at the bottle. “Where did you—never mind.”

Ray tries to rally. “Look, I get it. You’re frustrated and angry at the way they’ve been treating you—”

“What would you know?” someone interrupts. “You don’t look like any kind of worker to me!”

Ray is briefly flustered by this. “I—I work! I mean, that’s not important! I know how they treat you, but this is an opportunity to show them that you’re not like that! That you’re better than they think you are!”

People are muttering angrily. Loud enough for Ray to hear, Mick says, “You’re losing them, Haircut. They don’t care about that nobility stuff.”

Ray looks back at Mick, first annoyed that he isn’t doing anything until he realizes—these people, the Five Pointers, they’re just like Mick. They don’t care what others have to say, but they value loyalty and once they (or the ones they’re loyal to) are threatened, they won’t hold back. 

Ray turns back to the crowd, expression set and voice firm. “If you go out there tonight, you won’t have a home to go back to.” That surprises the crowd enough to quiet. “Those people out there, they don’t care if you’re Irish or you’re black. You’re the same to them. To the rest of the city, you’re the lowest of the low. That’s why they force you to live in this cesspool. But you managed to carve a life out here. You managed to make a _community_. The people rioting, when they come here to destroy the businesses that hire black workers or burn the buildings your black neighbors live in, they’re not going to care that other workers or tenants are Irish. They’ll tear this place to the ground because they don’t care about _you_. They just want the black people out. Imagine how empty your lives will be when they’re gone. The people you unwind with at the bar, or meet at dancing halls, the people you struggle next to every day, trying to survive in this place, forced to leave because of the color of their skin. But they’re Five Pointers, too. Just like you are. And Five Pointers watch out for each other because no one else will. Are you really going to throw _that_ away so easily?”

The crowd shifts, murmuring quietly but looking less inclined to leave. Shay joins Ray. “I can’t stop you from leaving, but I’m going to stay and do whatever I can to protect my neighborhood. All the people that come into my bar, everyone I pass on the street, I love this community and everyone in it. I don’t want that to go away.” 

As he speaks, Mick, Jax and Stein quietly go to stand with them. Josephine, after a moment’s hesitation, does the same. One or two people from the crowd join them, then more until they’ve all flocked around the group.

A man in the crowd asks, “What do we do? I’ve heard thousands of people are rioting. How are we supposed to defend against that?”

A new voice calls out, “Not alone, I can tell you that much.” Everyone turns to find a sizeable group of uniformed men standing nearby. Their arrival is punctuated by distant cannon fire. 

“Now that’s an entrance,” O!Len says appreciatively.

Stein jumps a bit at the booming sound, “Good heavens, what was that?”

The front uniformed man sneers a little while looking in the direction of the sound. “That? The sound of some idiot thinking it a good idea to put howitzers on Broadway.”

“Comptroller Brennan! Justice Dowling!” Shay exclaims, going over to shake the newcomers’ hands. “I’m so glad you could make it.”

“I’m glad you thought to send for us,” Brennan replies.

Ray leans toward Josephine. “Do you know who they are?”

“Officers from the Sixth Ward,” she tells him. “Councilman Jones, Captain Jordan—they all used to live in Five Points. We still consider them one of us. Alderman Welsh over there used to be a Dead Rabbit.”

Ray looks at her blankly, clearly not knowing ‘Dead Rabbit’ is one of the gangs in the area. “Interesting.”

“Young man.” Justice Dowling approaches and holds his hand out to Ray. “Very well said. I hope you and your compatriots will be staying to help?”

Ray puffs his chest out. “Absolutely! We’ll do everything we can!”

“Good lad.” He claps Ray’s shoulder before wandering off.

Comptroller Brennan can be overheard giving out orders about chokepoints and rigging up barricades as well as instructing people to heat up oil to pour out windows if anyone tries to light a building on fire. As people are moving about with purpose, Rip’s voice comes over the comms, “Dr. Palmer, Mr. Jackson, are you there?”

Jax turns away to answer, “Yeah, we’re here, Rip.”

“Good. Captain Lance and Miss Jiwe should be arriving shortly. I’m afraid the first rioters will come soon after them. A group is traveling down Bowery, but there is also a large mob a few blocks south of you. I would recommend bolstering forces on Chatham and Centre.”

“Got it. Thanks for the heads up, Rip.”

As Jax finishes talking to Rip, the women arrive. A heavy rain begins to fall as AMAYA—slightly singed after her trek through a burning building—pushes through the crowd. In her wake, SARA is holding a small, crying black girl. Like a train behind her, staying close, are ten other black people of varying ages and genders. Some look like they’ve been badly beaten, others just scared.

Ray, Stein, and Jax hurry towards them. Jax gets an arm around Amaya’s shoulders as she bends forward, hands on her knees, trying to catch her breath. 

“You guys all right?” Jax looks over the ragtag group, clustering close together. “I see you picked up some stragglers.”

Sara’s lips press into a thin line. “They’re the only ones we were able to save.” She’s clearly upset about not being able to save more.

Josephine comes over and takes the girl from Sara’s arms, balancing the child on her hip in a practiced move. Josephine waves a free hand to the rest of the group. “Here, let’s get everyone looked at. How about some water?”

Sara gapes after the departing Josephine, then turns to lock eyes with Ray while jabbing a thumb in Josephine’s direction.

“Oh, yeah.” Ray gives a quick little ‘whoops’ smile. “Did I forget to mention that? Carter’s here, too.”

“More former teammates?” Amaya asks.

“Yeah, but they’re not dead. They just reincarnate.” Ray says easily. Amaya’s eyebrows jump. “Long story. I’ll explain it later.”

“Now that everyone is together again,” Rip says over their comms, “I implore you, one last time: _please_ return to the ship. Now that the neighborhood is organized, surely that is enough!”

Sara asks, “Gideon?”

To which Gideon answers, “The new timeline remains unchanged.”

“Sorry, Rip. We’re committed to this.” Sara straightens and visibly collects herself. “The Legion may have gotten the spear piece, but if we can stop this riot from getting even more out of hand, then at least they won’t have won.” She pulls out her staff and extends it, because of course Sara has a weapon on her. She probably has more we just haven’t seen yet. “Jax, Stein, you’re with me. We’re going to head to the southern streets Rip mentioned. Don’t be afraid to break out Firestorm. Ray, Amaya, Mick, head up Centre. That big group on Broadway was being scattered by cannons, and I don’t doubt they’ll make their way over here. Amaya, we may need you to act as quick response so I hope you have your running shoes on.”

Amaya grins. “I’ll manage.”

“Are you going to help us fight?” 

Everyone turns to see who spoke. It’s Shay, and Sara does a double-take when she sees him.

Mick, who’s actually the one Shay is addressing, jabs a thumb in Sara’s direction. “She’s the boss. If she says we are, we are.”

Shay looks at her, a little surprised. 

Josephine arrives then, accompanied by the larger, less injured, black men Sara and Amaya had rescued (and a black woman wielding an iron fireplace poker). She looks intrigued. “ _Are_ you going to help us?” Josephine asks Sara.

“That’s the plan,” she says.

“I’d like to fight with you,” Shay says

A little confused, Sara looks at the other people getting ready around them, as if to say lots of people are going to be fighting with them.

“No, I mean,” Shay runs a hand through his hair, “I would like to fight alongside you.” Sara’s expression suggests she’s about to say no, so Shay says quickly, “This isn’t your fight. You don’t know us, you don’t come from here, but you’re willing to risk your lives to help complete strangers defend their homes. I think it’s only fair that I help protect you in return.”

One of the black men steps up to Sara. “We feel the same way, Miss Sara. You saved our lives. We want to make sure you come out of this with yours.”

For a moment Sara doesn’t seem to know how to respond. Eventually she just shrugs. “Well, I can’t really turn down a request like that, can I? Glad to have you with us; feel free to join whichever group you want.”

As the team splits up—O!Len following Mick as usual—Sara moves away from the others so she can talk to Rip. “Rip? How’s it looking?” Behind her, one of the Five Pointers hands Stein a crowbar. Stein is so startled to have this thing placed in his hands he doesn’t say anything before the man moves on.

CUT TO THE WAVERIDER.  
RIP looks antsy. “According to Gideon, originally the storm was supposed to have dispersed the riot for the night, but judging from Miss Stein’s map, it seems this is no longer the case. I’m afraid you may be fighting through the night.”

CUT TO SARA IN FIVE POINTS.  
Sara sighs and limbers up her shoulders. “Wouldn’t be the first time.” 

The rain is getting heavier. There are barricades set up along the street, people lined up behind them, mostly men but a few women, all armed with anything from broken off chair legs to bricks in socks. There’s the faint sound of shouting in the distance that’s beginning to get closer.

“Miss Stein will be keeping an eye out on the northern side, I will do the same for the southern,” says Rip. “Everyone... please be careful.”

“We’re a team, Rip,” Sara reassures him. “That’s how we’re going to get through this.” Then, quieter, mostly to herself, “That’s the only way we’ll get through this.”

In the distance, under the fading light, is a large, pulsating mass. The camera focuses in on Sara and the defenders, then slowly pulls back down the street, the noise getting louder and louder until there are people running towards the barricades, shouting and cursing, weapons in their hands and the first wave of rioters charge Five Points.

**_SCENE SIXTEEN: THE NEXT MORNING_ **

SCENE: Waverider, Bridge  
On the bridge of the Waverider, RIP is half leaning against, half slumped over the console before the 3D model. His elbows are braced, head hanging down, almost to the surface, and he’s without his duster.

Gideon says, softly as an AI can, “Captain Hunter.”

He jerks upright, eyes wide and bleary. “Yes. What? Yes.”

“Captain, I am reading a change in the timeline,” Gideon says. “The repeated failures to enter Five Points have broken the riot’s momentum enough that I calculate the damage to be comparable to the original timeline.”

Rip rubs his face, still groggy. “No armed forces will be recalled to New York? The North will win the war?”

“Yes, Captain.”

“Right, let’s recall the team, then.” Clearing his throat, Rip says, “Everyone all right?”

There are various groans.

CUT TO BARRICADED INTERSECTION IN FIVE POINTS.  
SARA is exhausted, hair a mess and outfit torn. She has some wounds but hardly the worst she’s dealt with. JAX slouches against a barricade, arms crossed over his knees and head cushioned on his arms. STEIN is half asleep next to him.

Sara reports in. “Alive, but exhausted. Tell me you have good news, Rip.”

“I do indeed. The war is saved and we should all immediately have a celebratory nap.”

Jax answers for both halves of Firestorm, “Yes, let’s definitely do that.”

With a little smirk, Sara asks, “You hear that, Ray? Amaya? We can pack it in.”

CUT TO A BRICK BUILDING, EXTERIOR, THEN ZOOM IN A SECOND STORY WINDOW.  
RAY and AMAYA keep watch through windows. O!LEN stands behind them, brazenly in full view of the street knowing no one can see him. On stairs behind them, MICK dozes, hat low on his face. Milling extras pass out water and food in the background.

“Thank goodness,” Amaya says. “I’m starting to have trouble seeing straight.”

Ray leans over to gently pat at Mick’s shoulder. “C’mon, Mick. Time to call it a night. Morning. Whatever.”

Mick grunts and rubs at his sore back as he gets up. “I’m too old to be doing this hero crap,” he groans.

“Funny how I’ve been telling you the exact same thing.” O!Len says. 

Mick, unsurprisingly, ignores him.

CUT TO SARA’S BARRICADE.  
Over Sara’s shoulder, Jax helps Stein to his feet. Stein’s momentarily confused as to what they’re doing outside. Sara smiles. Her team just pulled through an incredibly difficult night with only minor injuries; she has every reason to be proud of them. 

Sara says, “We’re on our way, Rip.”

CUT TO WAVERIDER BRIDGE WITH RIP AND LILY.  
On the Waverider, Rip says, “I’ll be waiting for you, Captain.” He smiles when he speaks Sara’s title, making it clear that he knows now _she’s_ the captain this crew needs. He goes over to the chairs where Lily is sleeping in an uncomfortable looking position. Rip’s duster is draped over her like a blanket. 

Rip nudges her gently. “Miss Stein.”

She jerks awake, almost falling off the chair in the process. When she recognizes Rip, she falls back with a groan. “God, I thought I was late for a midterm.” Her eyes fly open and she jerks upright again. “I didn’t mean to fall asleep. What’s happening?”

“It’s all right, Miss Stein. The riot is over. Our part in it, anyway.” Lily hands Rip’s duster back and he puts it on. “You did rather well. I wouldn’t have been able to keep track of everything on my own.”

Lily rubs her eyes and yawns. “Is everyone okay?”

“From what I hear, yes.” Rip takes a breath and says, “Miss Stein, I would like to apologize for my earlier behavior. I’ve been forced to realize that my training as a Time Master has been lacking in certain areas and outright wrong in others. Some lessons, unfortunately, are harder to unlearn than others. You are a living, breathing person with a family that loves you dearly and as much a right to live as anyone on this team. I apologize for treating you otherwise.”

Lily stares up at him, somewhat surprised by this change in attitude. “Well... thank you. I appreciate it.” She holds out her hand and Rip gives her a firm handshake. She gives him a little grin. “I guess you’re not such a jerkface after all.”

Rip scoffs a little. “Being a jerkface is a bit of a fatal flaw, I’m afraid.”

“Well, while I’m here, I’ll let you know if you’re relapsing.”

“Thank you, Miss Stein,” he says wryly. “Now let’s get the rest of the team, shall we?”

Lily hesitates for a moment as Rip goes to the controls. “Hey, Rip? This aberration thing... is it... is it really that bad?”

He pauses and looks over his shoulder, visibly struggling with what to say. Eventually he turns back around. “I’m afraid I’m no longer the best person to answer that question, Miss Stein.”

**_SCENE SEVENTEEN: DENOUEMENT_ **

SCENE: The Streets of Five Points, Exterior Shay’s Bar  
On the street in front of Shay’s saloon, the rain has stopped but the streets are still wet. The LEGENDS (MINUS RIP AND LILY) have all gathered up on the sidewalk. BRENNAN and SHAY are also there. All of them are tired, dirty, with minor injuries of some sort but are otherwise okay. JOSEPHINE is passing out cups of coffee.

Brennan asks Sara, “Are you sure you won’t stay for breakfast? I’m told some of the ladies are cooking up hotcakes for everyone that’s been out all night.”

“Thanks,” Sara tells him, “but we overstayed as it is. We’ve got a ride to catch.”

Brennan puts a hand to her shoulder. “Your assistance is greatly appreciated. I don’t think we would’ve been able to last through the night without your skills and insight. I’ve never seen anyone fight like you, or predict attacks so accurately!”

She gives him a little smirk. “It comes down to good teamwork, really.”

He laughs and pulls his hand away. “Well we’ll take it from here. Your hard work won’t be in vain, you can trust me on that.”

Sara smiles. She already knows that, after all.

Shay joins Mick and Ray, who are sipping from mugs. “I want to thank you two personally. If it wasn’t for you, for pushing me to act and for convincing everyone to stay and fight... I don’t know what would’ve become of this place.” He gives them both warm smiles, looking a little awed. “You helped out a bunch of strangers through a night of Hell. I’m going to keep protecting this neighborhood and my community, even after this is over. I’ll do my best to show the same kindness and heroism to others as you’ve shown us.” 

Ray perks up and smiles. Mick looks uncomfortable.

“You’ll need someone to tell you when you’re just being hardheaded,” Josephine chides, putting a cup of coffee in Shay’s hands.

He smiles softly at her. “I can’t imagine anyone better for the job than you.”

They make shy, lovey eyes at each other and Ray just watches them until Mick says in a rough undertone, “You’re staring again, Haircut.”

Ray flinches a bit at that and blabs as they turn their attention to him. “Sorry,” Ray says, “Josephine... reminds me of a fiancée I lost.”

Shay’s expression turns sympathetic. “I’m sorry for your loss.” He sighs, giving Mick a sideways look. “Seems everyone’s losing loved ones these days.”

Mick knocks back the rest of his coffee—pretending it still wasn’t too hot to do a move like that—and shoves the empty cup into Shay’s hand. “Yeah. Sucks to have emotions. Glad you’re not a horse’s ass this time around. Good luck. Try not to die.” He gives them a little nod before walking off.

Shay leans in a little closer to Ray, “You will keep an eye on him, right?”

“Absolutely. He acts gruff, but he’s a good guy.”

Shay laughs. “I figured that out myself.”

Josephine says, “Shay has good insight with people.” 

He smiles at her and brushes their hands together. Josephine smiles back and takes his hand.

Ray stares at them, not quite heartbroken but maybe a little regretful. He’s not seeing them as Josephine and Shay but as Kendra and Carter, and it compels him to say, “I’m happy for you, I really am. I’m glad you’ve found each other and hope you make each other happy for as long as you have. I’m sorry I didn’t say it earlier.”

They both look at him oddly and Ray realizes _whoops, wrong lives_ , and stumbles around, trying to find an excuse for his words. “I mean—can you believe I never got to tell anyone something like that? I mean, wow! It’s just so hard to find couples that really seem to match well, you know? Stories make it seem like that sort of stuff happens every day!” He forces an awkward laugh and, seeing Shay and Josephine’s confusion starting to turn into something like concern, Ray jabs a thumb over his shoulder. “I’m going to get going now. But really, good luck with”—he moves his hands to vaguely indicate the bar, the riot and each other—“everything. Okay. Bye.” He gives a hasty wave and all but runs.

Shay gives a huff of laughter. “This is why I love being a bartender. I get to meet such interesting people.”

Josephine smiles, watching them go. “I’m going to miss them.”

Ray joins up with the rest of the Legends, and Sara greets him with a, “Ready to go?”

“Yup!” The group moves toward one of the smaller streets, heading to where the jump ship was hidden. They wave to everyone they pass.

Mick passes O!LEN who is leaning against a wall. 

“Well, congratulations on surviving the night,” O!Len says. The only indication Mick hears him is a twitch at the sound of his voice. “You know, it almost seemed like you weren’t trying to get yourself killed! For our next step, I think we should aim at getting you back to where you belong.”

Mick snaps, “Haven’t you tortured me enough? Why are you still here?” He picks up his pace, not waiting for an answer but it doesn’t really matter because O!Len stops walking and just watches him go, looking like he wishes so badly he could say something.

Everyone files into a floating door in an empty construction yard. (It’s the cloaked jump ship.) Sara waits by the door for the others to go in first. She frowns slightly at the fact Mick is visibly angry. “You okay?”

Mick doesn’t stop, just bites out, “Peachy,” as he goes.

She shakes her head but lets it go. Just before she leaves, Sara looks back over the city, smirking a little bit and quotes to herself, “New York, New York, it’s a helluva town.” She enters the jump ship, and the doors close behind her.

SCENE: Waverider, Bridge  
The TEAM arrives on the bridge of the Waverider. RIP and LILY are waiting for them. 

As they enter the bridge, Rip gives them a relieved smile. “Well, I’m glad to see we’re all here and in one piece!”

“It seemed a close thing on occasion,” Amaya says wryly. “Even in the thick of World War II, I don’t think I’ve ever had a night as chaotic as that.”

“I think our captain deserves a little recognition,” Rip sketches a slight bow to Sara. “Anyone trained by the Time Masters would have prioritized their own safety at that point. Were it not for your leadership and determination, this entire mission—and quite possibly the team—would’ve been lost.”

She’s stunned by this, unused to Rip’s open acknowledgment. She smiles. “Like I said, it’s all because of teamwork. We wouldn’t have been able to get through it without all of us, either on the ground or up here.” 

He bows his head, acknowledging her assurance but it’s obvious he’s still not certain of his place anymore.

Lily, who’s been slowly making her way to Stein through all this, asks him, “Dad, are you okay?”

“Some bumps and bruises,” Stein tells her gently, “but nothing that can’t be worked through.”

“Good.” She gives him a tight hug and sighs in relief. “I’m still mad, but I’m glad you’re okay”

Stein doesn’t know what to say. He’s glad she’s talking to him but hurt that she’s upset. In the end he does nothing but hold her tightly. Lily pulls back, she opens her mouth to say something but hesitates. Unable to look her father in the eyes, Lily pats his chest, like additional assurance that he’s alive, before slipping away and off the bridge.

There’s a beat of silence until she’s out of hearing, after which Jax glares at Stein. “While we’re on the subject of being mad.”

Being reminded of what Stein did, the others turn unhappy to outright angry looks in his direction. Sara steps into the middle of the room, holding up her hands. “Now hold on a minute.”

“Sara, you can’t say you’re not upset about this!” Jax protests.

“Of course I am,” she says. “But I’m not going to let the entire team gang up on one person. He made a stupid decision, but it was out of a desire to protect someone he loves. Considering how many of us—myself included—have made rash calls because of the people we love, I think we should have a little leniency.” Sara gives Ray, Rip, and Amaya in particular pointed looks. They look away, contrite. She turns to Jax and says gently, “I’m not saying we can’t be angry, I’m just saying we should have a little understanding.” She turns to Stein, her expression both firm and sad. “What I’m most upset about is the fact that you didn’t trust us to have your back. I don’t care that Lily is an aberration. She’s your daughter. I’d fight for her just as hard as I would for any of you.”

Stein, ashamed, looks away. “I’m sorry, Captain Lance. It was an idiotic decision and I regret it dearly. I’ve spent so long in a position of authority I sometimes think that I still am. And young Jefferson is correct: I don’t always know what’s best. This will never happen again, I promise you.”

“Good.” Sara collapses in a chair. “Between that and our other spear pieces disappearing and now Snart showing up—” She looks at Mick. “You said Leonard took them.”

Mick shifts uncomfortably, looking to O!Len instinctively. “Yeah.”

“He’s not just a hallucination, then.”

He shrugs. “He was with me when he—other him—was on the comm.”

“So you’re hallucinating a man that’s also working for the other side?” Amaya asks. She’s completely lost.

“I am way too tired to figure this out right now.” Jax asks Sara, “What do we do now?”

“The only thing we can do: we focus on the mission. Our objective hasn’t changed. We still need to get the spear pieces before the Legion can collect them all, but now that we know they have Leonard, we can be better prepared for him.”

“Do you think it’s possible that they brainwashed him?” Stein asks. “As they did with Captain Hunter?”

Sara presses her lips together. She doesn’t know which she’d prefer. “I don’t know, but we’re going to find out what’s going on, and next time we meet him, we’ll be ready.”

Amaya goes a little ways from the others and tells Gideon quietly, “Gideon, I’d like you to lock the files I’ve compiled on my village. From everyone, including myself.”

“Of course, Miss Jiwe. May I ask why?”

“I’ve seen how even seemingly small changes can change time. Like New Zealand, even saving a life might change things for the worse. I don’t know if I can truly, completely give up on trying to save my people but I do know that if I try now, I’ll make things worse. Either for my village or for this mission.” Her posture is tight but her eyes are clear. Amaya has always been good at following the path she sets for herself without wavering. “If I come back to this, it will be at a time when I can give the situation the devotion it deserves.” Her eyes linger on her teammates as they decide their next course of action. “And, hopefully, with friends that can keep me from going too far. But, for now at least, I need to focus on the mission at hand.”

“Understood. Your files are locked and will not be accessible without my authorization.

“Thank you,” she says and goes to join the others in planning.


	2. Episode Fanart

[see on tumblr here](http://kickingshoes.tumblr.com/image/165548063402)

Kickingshoes' tarot card for Episode 15 - they've created a full set of Major Arcana based on the episodes! See more of their art [here](http://kickingshoes.tumblr.com/tagged/our-art)!


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